The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1894-11-12

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attendant said: Have you much
pain?'' "Oh.' he replied, ''since I
found the Lord / have never had any
pain except sim Then they said to
him: Would you like to send q mes
sage to your friends2" Yes, would;
tell them that only last night the love
of Jesus came rushing into my soul
like the surges of the sea. and 1 had to
cry out, Stop, Lord; it is enough
Stop, Lord-enoughl' Oh, the joys of
this Christian religionl
Just pass over from those tame joys
in which you are indulging-joys of
this world-into the raptures Of the
gospel The world can not satisfy you;
you have found out-A1exander, long
ing for OF her worlds to conquer, and
yet drowned in his own bottle; Byron,
whipped by disquietudes around the
world; Voltaire, cursing his own soul
while all the streets Of Paris were APP
plauding him; Henry IL, consuming
with hatred against poor Thomas
a-Becket-all illustrations of the fact
that this world can not make man
happy. The very man who poisoned
the pommel of the saddle on which
Queen Eliza beth rode, shouted in the
street. ''God save the queen!" One
moment the world applauds, and the
next moment the world mathematics
Oh, come over into this greater joy,
this sublime solace, this magnificent
beatitude- The night after the battle
Of Shiloh, there were thousands of
wounded on the field, and the ambu
lances had not come, one Christian
soldier, lying there dying under the
starlight, began to sing:
There is a lan1 of pure delight,
L -
there were scores Of voices uniting:
Where saints immortal reign.
The song was caught up all over the
field among the wounded, until it was
said there were at least ten thousand
wounded men uniting their voices as
they came to the verse:
There everlasting spring abides,
And never whitening flowers;
Death like a narrow stream divides,
That heavenly land from ours.
Oh, it is a great religion to live by,
and it is a great religion to die by
There is only one heart throb between
you and that religion this moment.
just look into the face of your pardon
ing God, and surrender yourself for
time and for eternity, and he is yours,
and heaven is yours, and all is yours
Some of you, like the young man of
the text, have gone far astray. know
not the history, but you know it-yOu
know it.
When a young man went forth into
life, the legend says, his guardian angel
went forth with him. and getting him
into a field, the guardian angel swept
a circle clear around where the young
man stood. 1t was a circle of virtue
and honor, and he must step beyond
that circle Armed foes came down,
-, = I,1 ~4 fI.oo 10
they could not pass. But one day
temptress, with diamonded hand,
stretched forth and crossed that circle
with the hand, and the tempted soul
took it, and by that one fell grip was
brought beyond the circle, and died
Some of you have stepped beyond that
circle. Would you not like this day, by
the grace of God, to step back2 This,
I say to you, is your hour of salvation.
There was in the closing hours Of
Queen Anne what is called the clock
scene. Flat down on the pillow
in helpless sickness, she could
not move her head or move her
hand She was waiting for the
hour when the ministers Of state should
gather in angry contest; and wor led
and worn out by the coming hour, and
in momentary absence of the nurse, in
the power-the strange power which
delirium sometimes gives one-she
arose and stood in front of the clock,
and stood there watching the clock
when the nurse returned The nurse
said, DO you see anything peculiar
about that clock?'' She made no
answer, but soon died. There is a
clock scene in every history. If some
of you would rise from the bed of
1ethargy and come out of your delirium
of sin and look on the clock of your
destiny this moment, you would see
and hear something you have not seen
or heard before, and every tick of the
minute, and every stroke Of the hour,
and every swing of the pendulum
would say: Now, now, now, now!"
Oh. come home to your Fathers house
Come home, oh, prOdigal, from the
wilderness. Come home, come homel
You remember reading the story of
a king, who on some great day of fes-
tivity scattered silver and gold among
the people, who sent valuable presents
to his courtiers; but methinxs when a
soul comes back, God is so glad that to
express his joy he filings out new
worlds into space, kindles up new
suns, and rolls among the white robed
anthems of the redeemed a greater
halleluiah, while with a voice that
reverberates among the mountains of
franzincense and is echoed back from
the everlasting gates, he cries: This,
my son, was dead and is alive againi"
At the opening of the exposition in
New Orleans, saw Mexican hutist,
and he played the solo. and then after
ward the eight or ten bands Of music,
accompanied by the great organ. came
in; but the sound of that one flute as
compared with all the orchestra, was