The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1892-07-08

darkness. Christ sacrificed on the funeral
pyre of worlds transgression; the
good for the bad, the great for the
mean; the infinite for the finite, the
! God for the man. Oh, if there be in all
this audience one person untouched by
this story of the Saviours love, show me
where he is that may mark the mon
ster of ingratitude and of crime. If you
could see Christ as he is you would rise
from your seat and fling yourselves
down at his feet, crying, MY Lord, my
light, my love, my joy, my peace, my
Itrength, my expectation, my heaven,
my all! Jesus! Jesus!"
HE HAS DONE ENOUGH.
Oh, can you not love him? Do you
want more of his tears? Why, he has
shed them all for you. He has no more.
Do you want more of his blood? His
arteries were emptied dry, and the iron
hand of agony could press out nothing
more. Would you put him to worse ex-
cruciation? Then drive another nail
into his hand, and plunge another spear
into his side, and twist another thorn
into his crown, and lash him with an
other flame of internal torture. "No,"
says some one; ''stop! stop! he shall not
be smltten again. Enough the tears.
Enough the blood. Enough the torture.
Enough the agony" Enough" cries
earth. Enough" cries heaven Aye.
Enough" cries hell. At last enough.
oh, look at him, thy butchered Lord,
unshrouded and CHASTITY as they flung
him from the tree, his wounds gapine
for bandage. Are there no hands t.
close these eyes? Then let the sun go
out and there be midnight. Howl, We
winds, and howl, We seas, for your Lord
is dead. Oh, what more could he have
done for you and for me than he has
done? Could he pay bigger price?
Could he drink more bitter cup? Could
he plunge into worse catastrophe? And
can you not love him? Groan again, o
blessed Jesus, that they may feel thy
sacrifice! Groan again. Put the four
fingers and the thumb of thy wounded
hand upon them, that the cash in the
palm may strike their soul and thy
warm life may bleed into them. Groan
again, 0 Jesus, and see if they will not
feel.
Oh, what will you do with such a
Christ as that? You have got to do
something with him this morning.
What will you do with Jesus? Will you
slay him again by your sin? Will you
spit upon him again? Will you cruelty
him again? What will you do with him
who has loved you with more than
brothers love, more than fathers love,
yea, more than a mothers love, through
all these years. Oh, is it not enough to
make the hard heart of the rock break?
Jesus! Jesus! What shall we do with
thee?
THE SOULS GREAT CHANCE.
have to say that the question will af-
ter awhile change, and it will not be
what shall we do with Christ, but what
will Christ do with us? Ring all the
bells of eternity at the burning of a
world. In that day what do you think
Christ will do with us? Why, Christ
will say: "There is that man whom
called. There is that woman whose Soul
| importuned. But they would MT any
of my ways. [ gave them innumerable
opportunities of salvation. They reject
ed them all. Depart; never knew
you" Blessed be God, that day has
not come. Halt, We destinies of eter-
nifty, and give us one more chance. One
more chance, and this is it.
Some travellers in the wilderness of
Australia a few years ago found the
skeleton of man and some of his gar
ments, and rusty kettle on which the
man had written or scratched with his
finger nail these words: 80 God, am
dying of thirst. Ny brain is on fire.
My tongue is hot. God help me in the
wilderness" Oh, how suggestive of the
condition of those who die in the wilder
ness of sin through thirst! We take
hold of them today. We try to hiring
the cool water of the rock to their lips.
We say, "Ho, every one that thirsteth!'
God, thy father, awaits thee. Minister
ing spirits who watch the ways of the
soul bend now this moment over this
immortal auditory to see what we will |
do with Jesus.