The weekly intelligencer. [volume] (Lexington, Mo.) 1891-1901, 1894-09-01

sire is that you may all join it. Why
not? You know in your own hearts
experience hat what I have said about
this world is true-that it is no place
to rest in. There are hundreds here
weary-oh, how weary-weary with
sin; weary with trouble; weary with
bereavement. Some of you have been
pierced through and through. You
carry the scars of u thousand conflicts,
in which You have bled ut every pore;
and you sigh: ''Oh, hat l had the
wings of a dove that | might fly away
and be at rest!" You have taken
the cup of this worlds pleasures and
drunk it to the dregs, and still the
thirst claws at your tongue, and the
fever strikes to your brain. You have
chased Pleasure through every valley,
by every stream, amid every brightness
n under every shadow; but just at
the moment when you were all ready
to put your hand upon the rosy, laugh
ing sylph of the wood, she turned upon
you with the glare of a lend and the
eye of a satyr, her locks adders and her
breath the chill damp of the grave. Out
of Jesus Christ no rest. No voice to
silence the storm. No light to kindle
the darkness. No dry dock to repair
the split bulwark.
Thank God, l can tell you something
better. If there Is no rest on earth,
there is rest in Heaven. Oh, We who
r worn out with work, your hands
calloused, your backs bent, your eyes
half put out, your fingers worn with
the needle that in this world you may
never lay down; We discouraged ones,
who have been waging a hand-to-hand
fight for bread; We to whom the night
brings little rest and the morning
more drudgery-oh, We of the weary
hand, and of the weary side. and the
weary foot, near me talk about rest!
Look at that company of enthroned
ones. Look at their hands; look at
their feet; look at their eyes. 1t IAN
not be that those bright ones ever
toiled? Yes! yes! These packed the
Chinese tea boxes and through mission
airy instruction escaped into glory.
These sweltered on southern planta-
lions, and one night. after the cotton
picking, went up as white as II they
had never been black. Those died Of
overtoil in the Lowell carpet factories,
and these in Manchester mills; those
helped build the pyramids, and these
broke away from work on the day
Christ was bounded out Of Jerusalem.
No more towers to build; Heaven IL
done. No more garments to weave;
the robes are finished. No more har-
vests to raise; the garner are full. Oh,
sons and daughters of toll! arise We and
depart, for that Is your rest.
Scovill McCallum, q boy of my Sum-
day school, while dying said to his
mother: Don't cry, but ~sing-sing
There Is rest for the weary.
There is rest for the weary,
Then, putting his wasted hands owe
his heart, said: There Is rest for me-"
But there are some Of you who want
to hear about the land where they
nev have any heartbreaks and no
graves are dug. Where are your father
and mother? The most of you are or
phans. I look around, and where I see
one man who has parents living I see
ten who are orphans. Where are your
children? Where I see one family cir
Gle that Is unbroken I see three or four
that have been desolated. One lamb gone
out Of its fold; one flower plucked from
that garland; one golden link broke
from that chain; here q bright light
put out, and there another, and yonder
another. With such griefs, how are
you to rest? viii there ever be q
power hat can attune that silent
voice, or kindle the luster Of that
closed eye, or put spring and dance
into hat little foot? When we bank
up the lust over the dead, is the sod
never to be broken? Is the cemetery
to hear no sound but the tire of the
hearse wheel, or the tap Of the bell at
the gate as the long professions come
in with their awful burdens of grief?
Is the bottom of the grave gravel, and
the top dust? No! no! mol The tomb
is only q place where we wrap our
robes about us for a pleasant nap on
our way home. The swellings Of Jor-
dan will wash of the dust of the way.
From the top Of the grave we catch q
glimpse of the towers glinted with the
sun that never sets.
oh We whose locks are wet with the
dews Of the night of grief: ye whose
hearts are heavy, because those we'll
known footsteps sound no more at the
doorway, yonder is your rest! There
is David triumphant; but once he be-
moaned Absalom. There Is Abraham
enthroned; but once he wept for Sarah.
There Is Paul exultant; but he once sat
with his feet in the stocks. There is
Payson radiant with immortal health;
but on earth he was always sick. No
toll, no tears, no partings, NO strife, no
agonizing cough, tonight. No storm
to ruffie the crystal sea. No alarm to
strike from the cathedral towers. No
dirge throbbing from seraphio harps.
No tremor In the everlasting song; but
rest-perfect rest-unending rest.
Into that rest how many of our loved
ones have gone! The little children
have gathered up into the bosom of
Christ. One of them went out of the
arms Of q widowed mother, following
its father. who died q few weeks be-
fore. In this last moment it seemed to
see the departed father, for 1t said,
looking upward with frightened coun-
tenance: Papa, take me up!"
Others put down the work Of midlife,
feeling they could hardly be spared
from the Office, or store, or shop. for a
day, but are to be spared from it for
ever. Your mother went. Having
lived a life of Christian consistency
here, ever busy with kindness for her
children, her heart full of that meek
and quiet spirit that is in the sight OF
God of great price, suddenly her coun-
tenance was trapsagured, and the gate
was opened, and she took her place
amid that great cloud of witnesses that
hover about the throne!
Glorious consolation! They are not
dead. You can only make me believe
they are dead. They have only moved
on. With more low thar that with
which they regarded us on earth, they
watch us from their high place, and
their voices cheer us In our struggle
for the sky. Hail, spirits blessed, now
that we have passed the floods and won
the crown! With weary feet we press
up the shining way, until in everlast
Ing reunion we shall meet again. Oh
won't it be grand when, our conflicts
done and our ~partings over, we shall
clasp hands, and cry out: This is
Heaven"
N~~~,-