Connecticut western news., 1893-12-28

Balm for all wounds. Life for all dead. Now Jesus, the great heart healer, comes into our home. Peace! Peace that passeth all understanding. We look up through our tears. We are com forted. It is the morning star of the Redeemer. Who broke off that flow er?" said one servant in the garden to another. "Who broke off that fower?" And the other servant said, "The mas- ter" Nothing more was said, for if the master had not right to break off a flower to wear over his heart or to set in the vase in the mansion, who has a right to touch the flower? And when Christ comes down into our garden to gather lilies, shall we fight him back? Shall we talk as though he had no right to come? If any one in all the universe has right to that which is beautiful in our homes, then our master has, and he will take it, and he will wear it over his heart, or he will set it in the vase of the palace eternal. "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord" Peace, trou- bled soul! I put the balm on your wounded heart tonight. The morning star, the morning star of the Redeemer.
 Again, Christ heralds the dawn of millennial glory. It is night in China, night in India, night in Siberia, night for the vast majority of the world s population. But it seems to me there are some intimations of the morning. All Spain is to be brought under the influence of the gospel. What is that light I see breaking over the top of the Pyrenees? The morning! Yea, all Italy shall receive the gospel. She shall have her schools and her colleges and her churches. Her vast population shall is that light see breaking over the top of the Alps? The morning. All India shall come to God. Her idols shall be cast down. Her juggernauts shall be broken. Her temples of iniquity shall be demolished. What is that light see breaking over the top of the Hima- layas? The morning. The empurpled clouds shall gild the path of the con- quering day. The Hottentot will come out of his mud hovel to look at the dawn; the Chinaman will come up on
 
 get up on the rocks, and all the beach of heaven will be crowded with celes- tial inhabitants come out to see the sun rise over the ocean of the worlds agony. They shall come from the east, and from the west, from the north, and from the south, and sit down in the kingdom of God. These sweltered un- der tropical suns. These shivered un- der Icelandic temperature. These pluck ed the vineyards in Italy. These pack ed the teaboxes in China. These were aborigines lifting up their dusky faces in the dawn. And the wind shall wait it, and every mountain shall become transfguraticn, and the sea will become the walking place of him who trod the wave cliffs of stormy Tiberias, and the song of joy shall rise toward heaven, and the great sky will become sound ing board which shall strike back the shout of salvation to the earth until it rebounds again to the throne of the Al mighty, and the morning star of Chris tian hope will become the full sunburst of millennial glory.
 Again, Christ heralds the dawn of heaven upon every Christians dying pillow. suppose you have noticed that the characteristics of people in their healthy days are very apt to be their characteristics in their dying days. The dying words of ambitious Napoleon were, Head of the army" The dying words of poetic Lord Byron were, "I must sleep now.' The dying words of affectionate Lord Nelson were, kiss me, Hardy The dying words of Vol taire were, as he saw one whom he SUD- posed to be Jesus in the room, Crush that wretch" But I have noticed that the dying words of Christians always mean peace. Generally the pain is all gone, and there is great quietude through the room. As one of these brothers told me of his mother in the last moment: ''She looked up and said, pointing to some supernatural being that seemed to be in the room, Look at that bright form. Why, they have come for me now.
 The lattice is turned so that the light is very pleasant. It is peace all around. You ask yourself: Why, can this be a dying roomp It is so different from anything I ever expected" And you walk the floor, and you look out of the window, and you come back and look at your watch, and you look at the face of the patient again, and there is no change, except that the face is becom- ing more radiant, more illuminated. The wave of death seems coming up higher and higher, until it has touched the ankle, then it comes on up until it touches the knee, and then it comes on up until it reaches the girdle, and then it comes on up until it reaches the lip, and the soul is about to be floated away into glory, and you roll back the pa tient's sleeve, and you put your finger on the pulse, and it is getting weaker and weaker, and the pulse stops, and you hardly know whether the life has gone or not. Indeed, you cannot tell when she goes away, she goes away so calmly. Perhaps it Is o'clock in the morning, and you have the bed wheel ed around to the window, and the dy- ing one looks out into the night sky, and she sees something that attracts her attention, and you wonder what 1t Is.
 Why, it Is a star. It is star that out of it's silver rim Is pouring super natural light into that dying experi- ence. And you say, What is it that you are looking at2" She says, "It is star" You say, What star is it that seems so well to please you?' "Oh," she says, "that is the morning star Jesus!'' would like to have my death bed under that evangelistic star-1 would like to have my eye on that star, so could be assured of the morning. Then the dash of the surf of the sea of death would only be the billowing up of the promise, When thou passest through the waters, will be with thee, and the rivers, they shall not overflow thee" All other lights will fail-the light that falls from the scroll of fame, the light that flashes from the gem in the beautiful apparel, the light that