The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1892-03-19

tired OF the old people? DO you snap
them up quick and sharp? You will
be cursed to the bonefor youringrati-
tude and unkindness.
Again: The very bad, the out
rageously sinful, mayo Men talk
OF the grace of God as though it were
SO many yards deep. People point
to- the dying thief as an encourage.
ment to the sinner. How much better
it would be to point to our own case
and say, "1f God saved us, he can save
anybody" There may be those here
who never had one earnest word said
to them about their souls. Consider
me as putting my hand on your
shoulder and looking in your eye.
O HAS BEEN COOL TO YOU.
You ask, "How do you know that?
He has been very hard on me-"
"Where did you come. from?"
"Home." "Then you have a home.
Have you ever thanked Cos for your
home? Have you children?" Eyes"
"Have you eve thanked God for your
children? Who keeps them safe? Were
you ever sick?" Yes" "Who made
you we'll? Have you been fed every
day? Who feeds you? Put your hand
on your pulse. Who makes it throb?
Listen to the aspiration ofyour lungs.
Who helps you to breathe? Have
you a Bible in the house, spreading
before you the future? Who gave you
that Bible?" Oh, it has been a story
of goodness and mercy all the way
through. You have been one of Gods
pet children. Who fondled you, and
carressed you and loved you? And
when you went astray, and wanted to
come back, did he ever refuse? l know
of q father who, after his SON came
back the fourth time, said, "No; / for
gave you three times, but I will never
forgive you again" And the son went
off and died! But God takes his chill
dren the t~housandth time as cheerful
ly as the first. As easily as with my
handkerchief I strike the dust off a
book, God will wipe out all your sins.
Again: All the dying will find their
nest in this goodly cedar. 1t is cruel
to destroy a birds nest, but death
does not hesitate to destroy one.
There was a beautiful one in the next
street. Lovingly the parents brooded
over it. There were two or three little
robins in the nest. The scarlet fever
thrust it's hot hands into the nestand
the birds are gone. Only those are
safe who have their neStsin thegoodIy
cedar. They have over them "the
feather, OF the Almighty" Oh! to
have those soft, warm, eternal wings
stretched over. us! Let the storms
beat. and the branches Of the cedar
toss on the wind-no danger. When
a storm comes, you can see the birds
flying to the woods, Ere the storm
OF death comes down, let us fly to the
goodly cedar.
OF what great varieties heaven will
be made up! There will come men
who once were hard and cruel, and
desperate in w~ickedness, yet now, soft
and changed by grace, they come into
glory: "All fowl Of every wing" And
here they come, the children who were
reared in loving home circles, focking
in through the gates of life: Cali fowl
of every wing" These were white,
and came from Northern homes; these
we're black, and assembled from South
ern plantations; these were copper
colored, and went up from Indian
reservations: "AIl fowl OF every wing"
so GOD GATHERS THEM UP.
When autumn comes and the giant
of the woods smites his anvil and the
leafy sparks fl on the autumnal gale,
then there will be thousands of birds
gathering in the tree at the corner of
the field, just before departing to
warmer chimes and they will call and
sing until the branches drop with the
melody. There is a better cline for us
and by and by we shall migrate. We
gather in the branches of the goodly
cedar in preparation for departure.
You heard our voices in the opening
song; you will hear them in the closing
song-voices good, voices bad, voices
happy, voices distressful-"All fowl of
every wing" By and by we shall be
gone. If all this congregation be
saved-as l hope they will bel see
them entering into life. Some have
had it hard, some have had it easy.
Some were brilliant, some we're dull.
Some we're rocked by pious parentage,
others have had their infantile cheeks
scalded with tears of woe. Some
crawled, as it were, into the
kingdom on their hands and
knees, and some seemed to enter in
chariots of flaming fire. Those fell
from a ships mast these were crushed
in a mining disaster. They are Gods
singing birds now. No gun of hunts
man shall shoot. them down. Thew
gather on the trees of life, and fold
their wings on the branches, and, far
away from frosts and winds and
night, they sing until the hills are
flooded with Joy, and the skies drop
music, and the arches of pearl send
back the echoes-"All fowl of every
wing.
Behold the saints, beloved of God,
Washed are their robes in Jesus blood,
Their glories splendid and sublime.
Through tribulation great they came;
They bore the cross and scorned the
shame:
Now, in heavenly temple blest,
With God they dwell; on him they rest,
While everlasting ages roll,
Eternal love shall feast their soul,
And scenes OF bliss, forever new.
!. Rise in successing to their view.
Beecher a Farmer. :
Henry Ward Beecher once edited a
farm journal, and at the same time
titled a. small n,., rkof ua ,.da,, He on