Audubon County Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Audubon Co., Iowa) 1885-1894, 1892-01-28

'St. Martin and "LenoX," and "Old
Hundred" do not amount to anything
unless they sing all the week. SER
mon is useless unless we can take it
with us behind the plough and the
counter. The Sabbath day is worth
less if it last only twenty-four hours.
There are many Christians who say
eve are willing to serve God, but we
do not want to do it in these spheres
about which we are talking; and it
seems so insipid and monOtonous. If
we had some great occasion, If we had
lived in the time of Luther, if we had
been Paul's travelling companion, if we
could serve god on a great scale, we
would do it; but we can't in this every
day life" ! admit that great deal
of the romance and knight-crrantry
of life have disappeared before
the advance OF this practical age.
The ancient temples of Roucn have
been changed into store-hOuscs and
smithies. The residences of poets and
princes have been turned into brokers'
shops. The classic mansion of Ashland
has been cut up into walliing-sticks
The groves where the poets said the
gods dwelt have been cartcd out for
iire-wood. The muses. that we used to
read about have disappeared before the
emigrant's axe and the trappcrs gun.
and that man who is waiting for life
bcwitched of wonders will never fir.d it.
Again, we need to bring the religion
of Christ into our commoneSt trials.
For severe losses, for bereavement, for
trouble that shocks like an earthquake
and that blasts like a storm, we pre-
scribe religious consola ton; but, bust
ness man, for the small annoyances of
last week, how much of the grace of
God did you apply? oh" you say,
these trials are too small for such APP
p,ication." My brother, they are
shaping your character they are
souring your temper, they are wearing
out your temper, they are wearing out
your patience, and they are making
you less and less a man. | go into n
sculptor's studio, and see him shaping
a statue. He has chisel in one hand
and a mallet in the other, and he gives
very gentle strollc--clicls, click,
click! say, "Why don't you strike
harder" OH" he replies, that
would Shattcr the statue. | can't do
it that way: must do it this
way SO he works on, and
after while the features come out, and
everybody that enters the studio is
charmed and fascinated. Well, God
has your soul under process of develop
ment, and it is the little annoyanccs
and vcXationS of life that are chiseling
out your immortal nature. 1t is click,
click, click! | wonder why some great
providence does not come and
with one stroke prepare you for
heaven. All, no God says that is
not the way. And so he kceTs
on by strokes of little annoyances, little
SORROWS, little veNationS, until at last
you shall be IA glad spectacle for angels
and for men. You know that II large
fortune may he spent in small change,
and a vast amount of moral character
may go away in small depletion. 1t
is the little troubles of life that are
having more effect upon you than
| great ones. A swarm of locusts
will kill grain-field sooner
that the incursion of three or four cat
tie. You say, Since lost my child,
since | lost my property, / have been
! Ognizc the architecture of little annoy
ances that are hcwing, digging, cut
| ting, shaping, splitting and interjoin-
ing your moral qualities. Rats may
! sink a ship, One lucifcrIpatch may
send destruction through a block of
rc-houses. Catherine dc Medicis got
| her death from smelling a poisonous
rose. Columbus, by stopping and ask
! ing for piece of bread and drink of
water at Franciscan convent, was
| led to the discovery of the new world.
And there is an intimate connection
| between trifles and immcnsitics, be-
tween nothinGs and everythings.
! compare our Indifference to the
bru ,e; but perhaps | wronged the
brute. ! co not know but that, among
its other instincts, it may have an in
stnct by which it recognizes the Divine
hand that feeds it. | do not know but
that God is, through it, holding com
municatiOu with what we call IRA
tional creation" The COW that stands
under the willow by the water-course,
chewing its cud, looks very thankful;
and who can tell how much a
bird means by its song? The aroma of
the flowers smells like incense, and the
mist arising from the river looks like
| the smoke of a morning sacrifice. Oh,
that we were as responsive! Yet who
thanks God for the water that gushes
up in the well, and that foams in the
cascade, and that laughs over the
rocks, and that patters in the
showers, and that claps its hands
in the sea? Who thanks God for the air,
the fountain of life, the bridge of sun,
b ans, the path of sound, the great fan
on hot summers day? Who thanks
God for this wonderful physical organ,
ism-this sweep of the vision-thiS
chime of harmony struck into the a.
/ was preaching one Thanksgiving
day and announced my text: "Oh
give thanks unto the Lord; for he i!
good; for his mercy endureth forever.
do not know whether there was AM
blessing on the sermon or not; but tn,
text went straight to IA young man
heart. He said to himself, as
read the text: "'Oh, give thank
unto the Lord; for he is good
Why, l have never rendered him an,
! thanks. Oh, what an migrate | hav
; been" Can it be, my brother, that yo
have been. fed by the good hand of Go
all these days-that you have had cloth
ing and shelter and all beneficent SUI
roundings, and yet have never offere
your heart to God? o, let sense of tn
e divine goodness shown you in the every
- day blessings melt your heart; an
- if you have never before uttered on
N earnest note of thanksgiving, let tn
1 be the day which shall hear your sone
= What say to one, | say to all of Gh
y audience. Take this practical religio
:, ] have recommended into your ever!
y day life. Make every day a Sabbath
- and every meal sacrament, and ever
room you enter Holy