Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1892-02-06
piece of heaven by St. John is more
impressive when we take only thirty
minutes of it at q time.

piece of heaven by St. John is more
impressive when we take only thirty
minutes of it at time.
Now we have something that we
can come nearer to grasping and it is
a quiet heaven. When we discuss
about the multitudes of heaven, it
must be almost nervous shock to
those who have all their lives been
crowded By many people and who
want a quiet heaven. For the last
thirty-fve years l have been much of
tho time in crowds and under public
scrutiny and amid excitements, and
/ have sometimes thought for few
weeks after ! reach heaven | would
like to 60 down in some quiet part of
the realm, with a few friends, and
for a little while Try comparative
solitude.
Then there are those whose hear.
ing is SO delicate that they get &c
satisfaction when you describe the
crash of the eternal orchestra and
they feel Like saying, as the good
woman in Hudson, N. Y, said, after
|shea1ing me speak of the mighty
chorus of heaven, 'That must be q
great heaven, but what will become
of my poor head2"
Yes, this half hour of my text is a
still experience. There was silence
in heaven for half an hour" You
will find the inhabitants all at home.
Enter the Kings palace and take only
a glimpse, for we have only thirty
minutes for all heaven. us that
! Jesusl" Yes" Just under the hair
along his forehead is the mark Of a
wound made by a bunch of twisted
bralnbles, and bis foot on the throne
has on the round of hisinstep another
mark of wound made by spike,
and scar on the palm of the right
hand and scar on the palm of the
left hand. But, what counte-
nance What smile Whata gram
deurl What a loneliness! What an
overwhelming look Of kindness and
grace! Why, he looks as if he had
redeemed a world! But come on, for
our time is short. Do you see that
row of palaces9 That is the Apes
toIc row. Do you see that long
reach of architectural glories2 That
is Martyr row. Do you see that i'm
mense structure9 That is the biggest
house in heaven; that is the House
of Many Mansions. Do you see that
wan2 Shade your eyes against its
burning splendor, for that is the wall
of heaven, jasper at the bottom and
amethyst at the top.
| See this river rolling through the
heart of the great metropolis? That
is the river concerning which those
who once lived on the banks of the
Hudson, or the Alabama, or the
Rhine, or the Shannon. say, I'VE
never saw the like of this for clarity
and sheen" That is the chief river
of heaven-so bright, so wide, SO
deep. But you ask, Where are the
asylums for the oldY 1 answer,
"The inhabitants are all young.
"Where are the hospitals for the
lame2" .'They are oil eSile.n .sWhere
are the ultlr1naries for the bind ana
deafs'' 'Tbey all see and hear.
"Where are the almshouses for the
poor2" They are all multimillion-
aires" Where are the inebriata
asylums" why, there are no
saloons. where are the grave
yardsg" "Why, they never die"
Pass down those boulevartls of gold
and amber and sapphire and see those
interminable streets built by the
Architect of the universe into homes,
over the threshold of which sorrow
never steps, and out of whose win
dows faces, once pale with earthly
sickness, now look rubicund with i'm
mortal health. "Oh, let me go IN
and see them!" you say. No, you
cannot go in. There are those there
who would never consent to let you
come up. You say, "Let me stay
here in this place where they never
sin, where they never suffer, where
they never part" No, mol Our time
is short, our thirty minutes are al
most gone. Come on! We must get
back to earth before this half hour
of heavenly silence breaks up, for in
your mortal state you cannot endure
the pomp and splendor and resonance
when this half hour of silence is
ended.
The day will come when you can
see heaven in full blast, but not now.
| am now only showing you heaven
at the dullest half hour of all the
eternities. Come on! There is some
thing in the celestial appearance
which makes me think that the half
hour of silence will soon be over.
Yonder are the white horses being
hitched to chariots, and yonder are
seraphs lingering harps as-if about
to strike them into harmony, and
yonder are conquerors taking down
from the blue halls of heaven the
trumpets Of victory.
Remember, we are mortal yet, and
cannot endure the full roll of heaven
ly harmonies and cannot endure even
the silent heaven for more than half
an hour. Hank! the clock in the
tower of heaven begins to strike and
the half hour is ended. Descend!
Come backl Come down! till your
work is done. Shoulder little longer
your burdens. Fight a little longer
your battles. Weep a little longer
your griefs. And then take heaven,
not in its dullest half hour, but in its
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