Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1893-11-18
NUMBER q

1umine1 the last night, ana as many
years have passed as all the scribes that
ever took pen could describe by as many
figures as they could write in all the cen.
turies of all time, but thou shalt haYeno
power to eface from any soul in glory
the memory Of anything we have done
to bring it to God and heaven!
A FROwN FOLLOWED BY A Kiss.
There is another and more complete
defeat for oblivion, and that is in the
heart of God himself. You have seen
sailor roll up his sleeve and show you his
arm tattooed with the figure Of a favor.
tie ship-perhaps the first one In which
he ever sailed. You have seen soldier
roll up his sleeve and show you his arm
tattooed with the picture Of fortress
where he was garrisoned, or the face Of a
great general under whom he fought.
You have seen many hand tattooed
with the face of loved one before or
after marriage.
This tattooing is almost as old as the
world 1t is some colored liquid pune
tured into the flesh so indelibly that
nothing can wash it out. It may have
been there so years, but when the man
goes into his coffin that puncture will go
with him on hand or arm. Now, God
says that he has tattooed us upon his
hands. There can be no other meaning
in the forty-ninth chapter of Isaiah.
where God says, "Behold, have craven
thee on the. palms of my hands!''
1t was as much as to say: 81 cannot
open my hand to help, but think OF
you. cannot spread abroad my hands
to bless, but think of you. Wherever
] go up and down the heavens take
these two pictures of you with me. They
are SO inwrought into my being that !
cannot lose them. AS long as my hands
last the memory of you will last. Not
on the backs of my hands, as though to
announce you to ot',ers, but on the
palms of my hands for myself to look
at and study and love. Not on the
palm of one hand alone, but on the
palms of both hands, for while
am looking upon one hand and thinking
Of you, I must have the other free to pro-
tect you, free to strike back your enemy,
free to lift you foil. Palms of my hands
indelibly tattooed. And though I hold
the winds in my. fist no cyclone shall up
root the inscription of your name and
your face, and though / hold the ocean
in the hollow of my hand Its billowing
shall not wash out the record Of my re-
membrance. Behold, have craven thee
on the palms of my hands,"
What joy, what honor can there be
comparable to that of being remembered
by the mightiest and kindest and love-
lest and tenderest and most afectionate
being in the universe. Think Of ito
hold an everlasting place in the heart of
God. The heart of God! The most beau
tiful palace in the universe. Let the
archangel build some palace as grand as
that If he can. Let him crumble up an
the stars Of yesternight and tomorrow
night and put them together as mosaics
for such palace floor. Let him take all
the sunrises and sunsets of all the days
and the auroras of all the nights and
hang them as upholstery at its windows.
Let: him take all the rivers, and al the
lakes, and all the oceans, and toss them
into the fountains of this palace court.
Let him take. all the gold Of all the hills
and hang 1t in its chandeliers, and all
the pearls of all the seas and all the dia-
monds of all the fields, and with them
arch the doorways Of that palace, and
then invite into it all the glories that
Esther ever saw at Persian banquet,
or Daniel ever walked among IN Baby
lonian castles, or Joseph ever witnessed
in Pharaoh's throneroom, and then your
self enter this castle of archangelic con-
struction and see how poor palace 1t is
compared with the greater palace that
some of you have already found In the
heart Of loving and pardoning God,
and into which all the music and all the
prayers, and all the sermonic considers
tions of this day are trying to introduce
you through the blood of the slain Lamb.
Oh, where is oblivion now? From the
dark and overshadowing word that it
seemed when began, 1t has become
something which no man or woman or
child who loves the Lord need ever fear.
Oblivion defeated. Oblivion dead. OBJ
livion sepulchered. But l must not be so
hard on that devouring monster, for into
its grave go all our sins when the Lord
for Christ's sake has forgiven them. just
blow resurrection trumpet over them
when once oblivion has snapped them
down. Not one of them rises. Blow
again. Not stir amid all the pardoned
iniquities Of a lifetime. Blow again! Not
one CT them moves in the deep grave
rrencnes. 1uJ TO this power1ess resur.
rection trumpet voice responds, halt
human, half divine, and it must be part
man and part God, saying, "Their sins
and their iniquities will I remember no
more"
Thank God for this blessed obliyionl
So you sec did not invite you down in
to o cellar, but up on C. throne-not into
the graveyard to which al! materialism
Is distined, but into garden all abloom
with everlasting remembrance. Tho
frown Of my first text has become the
kiss of the second text. Annihilation.
has become coronation. The wringing
hands Of great agony have become the
clapping hands of great JOY. The
requiem with which we began has be-
come the grand march with which we
close. The tear of sadness that rolled
down our cheek has struck the lip on
which sits the laughter Of eternal tn
umph.
wales and BIS Shooting.
His royal highness Albert Edward,
prince Of Wales, is not brilliant per-
former with shotgun, but he enjoys
fo1, tho nradit