The Russellville Democrat., 1890-02-27

their fi1c, and producing revolutions with their power, lighting up dying beds with their glory, they are the
 sweetest thought Tor the poet. and they are the most thrilling illustration for the orator, and they offer the most in-
 tense scene for the artist, and they are l to the ambassador of the sky all enthu-
 siasn. Complete pardon for direstguilt.
 Brightest hope for grimmest de&sh. Grandest resurrection for darkest sepul- cher. Oh, what a Gospel to preachl Christ over all in 1t. His birth, His sui fering His miracles, His parables, His sweat, His tears, His blood, His atoae- ment His inteTcession-wh glorious 1 themesl Do we exercise faith? Christ 1 is it's object. Do we have love? It fastens on Jesus. Have we fondness l for the Church? It is because Christ died for it. Have we hope of Heaven? l It Is because Jesus went ahead, the
 herald and the forerunner.
 The royal robe of Demetrius was so costly, so beautiful, that after he had put it of no one ever dared put it on; but this robe of Christ, richer than that, the poorest and the wannest and the worst may wear.
 I Where sin abounded grace may much more abound"
 ''Oh, my sins, my sins.' said Martin Luther to Staupitz, my sins, my sins!"
 The fact is, that the brawny German student had found Latin Bible that made him quake, and nothing else ever | T k ox.I l. found how, through Christ, he was par doned and saved, he wrote to friend, saying:
 | Come ever and join us great and aw- full sinners saved by the grace of God. l You seem to be only a slender sinner, and you don't much extol the mercy of God; but we that have been such very awful sinners praise His grace the more now that we have been redeemed" Can it be that you are so desperately egotis- tical that you feel yourself in first-rate spiritual trim, and that from the root of | the hair to the tip of the toe you are | scarless and immaculate? What you need is a looking-glass. and here 1t is in l tho Bible. Poor, and wretched, and | miserable, and blind, and naked from | the crown of the head to the sole of the 1 foot, full of wounds and putrefying sores. No health in us. And then take the fact that Christ gathered up all the | notes against us and paid them, and then offered us the receipt.
 l And how much we need Him in our sorrows! We are independent of cir cumstances if we have His grace. Why, He made Paul sing in the dungeon, and under that grace St. John from desolate Patmos heard the blast of the apocalyp- | tic trumpets. After all other candles have been snuffed out, this is the light that gets brighter and brighter unto l the perfect day; and after, under the hard hoofs of calamity, all the pools of worldly enjoyment have been trampled into deep mire, at the foot of | the eternal rock the Christian, from cups of granite, lily-rimmed and vine covered, puts out the thirst of His soul. | Again, I remark that Christ is above all in dying alleviations. have not | any sympathy with the morbity abroad | about our demise. The Emperor of Constantinople arranged that on the day l of his coronation the stone-mason should come and consult him about the tomb l stone that after awhile he would need. l And there are men who are monomani- | acal on the subject of departure from this l life by death, and the more they think of it the less they are prepared to go. 1 This is an unmanliness not worthy of you, not worthy of me. Saladin, the greatest conqueror of his day, while dy- La had him be carried after his death on his spear at the head of his army, and then the soldier, ever and anon, should stop and say:
 'sBehold all that is left of Saladin, the Emperor and conqueror! Of all the states he conquered, of all the wealth he accumulated, nothing did he retain but this shroud." 1 have no sympathy with such behavior, or such absurd demonstration, or with much that we hear uttered in regard to departure from this life to tho next. There is com monsensical idea on this subject that you and need to consider-that there are only two styles of departure. A thousand feet underground, by light of torch toiling in miners shaft, ledge of rock may fall upon us, and we may die miners death. Far out at sea, falling from the slippery ratlines and broken on the halyards, we may die a sailors death. On mission of mercy in hospital amid broken bones and rocking leprosies and raging levers, we may die philanthropist's death. On the field of battle, serving God and our country, slugs through the heart, the gun-carriage may roll over us, and we may die patriots death. But, after all there are only two styles of depart ure-the death of the righteous and the death Of the wicked-and we all want to die the former
 God grant that when that hour comes you may be at home. You want the hand of your kindred in your hand. You want your children to surround you. You want the light on your pillow from eyes that have long reflected your love. You want the room still. You do not want any curious Strangers standing around watching you. You want your kindred from afar to hear your last prayer think that is the wish of all of us. But is that all? Can earthly friends hold us up when the pillows of death come up to the girdle? Can hu- man voice charm open Heavens gate? Can human hand pilot us through the narrows of death into Heavens harbor? Can any earthly friendship shield us from the arrows of death, and in the hour when Satan shall practice upon us his internal archery? No, no, no, mol
 Alasl poor soul, if that Is all Better die in the wilderness, far from tree shadow and from fountain, alone, vult- ures circling through the air waiting for our body, unknown to men, and to have no burial, If only Christ could say through the solitude;
 T will never leave thee; will never forsake thee.p
 From that pillow of stone ladder