The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1893-03-10

is ready for all those to whom the
world has given the cold shoulder.
But notice that some one must take
the storm for the chickens Ah! the
hen takes the storm 1 have watched
her under the pelting rain. 1 have
seen her in the pinching frosts AL
most frozen to death, or almost
strangled in the waters, and what a
fight she makes for the young under
wing if a dog, or a hawk, or n man
come too near. And SO the brooding
Christ takes the storm for us What
flood of anguish and tears that did not
dash upon His holy soul? What beak
of torture did not pierce His vitals?
What barking Cerberus of hell was not
let out upon Him from the kennels?
What He endured, who can tell,
To save our souls from death and hell
Yes, the hen took the storm for the
chickens and Christ takes the storm for
us. Once the tempest rose so suddenly
the hen could not get with her young
back from the new ground to the barn,
and there she is under the fence half
dead. And now the rain turns to snow
and it is an awful night, and in the
morning the whiteness about the gills
and the beak down in the mud show
that the mother is dead, and the young
ones come out and cannot understand
why the mother does not scratch for
them something to eat, and they walk
over her wings, and call with their
tiny voices, but there is no answering
i. t6. 60 -,
and perished Poor thing! Self-sacri-
ficing even unto death! And does it
not make you think of Him who en-
dured all for US? So the wings under
which we come for spiritual safety are
blood-spattered wings, are night
shadowed wings, are tempest-torn
wings.
But now the summer day Is almost
past, and the shadows of the house and
barn and wagon shed have heightened.
The farmer, with scythe or hoe
on shoulder. is returning from the
fields. The oxen are uuyolled. The
horses are crunching the oats at the
full bin. The air is bewitched of honey
suclzle and wild-briar The milllman.
pail in hand, is approaching the barn
yard. The fowls, keeping early hours,
are collecting their young; ''clucli"'
'cluckl" ''clucl!'' and soon all the eyes
of that feathered nursery are closed.
The bachelors of the winged tribe have
assembled to their perch, but the hens,
in motherhood divinely appointed,
take all the risk of slumber on the
ground, and all night long the wings
will stay outspread and the little ones
will not utter Il sound Thus at sum
down, lovingly, safely, completely, the
hen broods her young. So, if we are
the Lords, the evening of our life will
come The heats of the day will have
passed There will be shadows and we
cannot see far. The world of life will
be about ended. The hawks of temp
tation that lowered in the sky will have
gone to the woods and folded their
wings. Sweet silences will come down.
The air will be redolent with the breath
of whole arbors of promises sweeter
than jasmine or evening primrose. The
air may be little chill, but Christ will
call us, and we will know the voice and
heed the call, and we will come under
the wings for the night, the strong
wings, the soft wings, the warm wings,
and without fear, and in full sense of
safety, and then we viii rest from sun
down to sunrise, ''as hen gathereth
her chickens under her wing"
My text has it's strongest application
for people who were born in the coun-
try, wherever you may now live, and
that is the majority of you. You can
not hear my text without having all
the rustic scenes of the old farm house
come back toyou. Good old days they
were You knew nothing much of the
world, for you had not seen the world.
BY law Of association, you cannot recall
the brooding hen and her chickens
without seeing also the barn, and
the hay-mow, and the wagon
shed, and the house, and the room
where you played. In thought return
to that place and hear the cluck, and
see the outspread feathers, and come
under the wing, and make the Lord
your portion and shelter and warmth,
preparing for everything that may
come, and so avoid being classed among
those described by the closing words of
my text, las hen gathereth her chick
ems under her wings, and We would
not" All, that throws the response
bility on US "Ye would not"
Alas! for the "would-nots" If the
wandering broods of the farm heed
not the mothers call and risk
the hawA and dare the freshet and
expose themselves to the frost and
storm, surely their calamities are not
the mothers fault "Ye would not!"
God would, but how many would not
Oh, We wanderers from God and happi-
ness and home and Heaven, come under
the sheltering wing. Under this call l
see you turning from your old way to
the new way, the living way, the gos-
pei way. A vessel in the British chan
mel was nearing the rocks called the
steep Holmes" Under the tempest,
the vessel was unmanageable, and the
only hope was that tne tide would
change before she struck the
rocks and went down, and SO
the captain stood on the deck,
watch III hand. Captain and crew and
passengers were pallid with terror.
Taking another look at his watch and
another look at the sea, he shouted:
Thank God, we are savedl The tide
has turned One minute more and w0
would have strnck the rocks" Some
of you have been a long while drifting
in the tempest of sin and sorrow, and
have been making for the breakers.
Thank God, the tide has turned. Do
you not feel tine lift of the billow? The
grace of God that bringeth salvation
has appeared to your soul, and in the
words OF Boaz to Ruth, commend you
to 1.-The Lord God of Israel. under whose
wings thou hast come to trust"