Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1894-11-15

found the Lord have never had any
pain except SIM" Then they said to
him: would you like to send a mes
sage to your friends?" "Yes, would;
tell them that only last night the love
of Jesus came rushing into my soul
like the surges of the sea, and / had to
cry out, Stop, Lord; it is enough!
Stop, Lord enough!'" Oh, the joys of
this Christian religion!
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-Alexander, long
ing for other 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 H., 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 Elizabeth rode, shouted in che
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 land of pure delight,
And when he came to the next line
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 spri bides,
And never witherinA nJwers;
Death like narrow stream divides,
That heavenly land from ours.
Oh, it is 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 young man went forth into
life, the legend says, his guardian angel
went forth with him, and getting him
into field. the guardian angel swept
a circle clear around where the young
man stood. 1t was circle of virtue
and honor, and he must step beyond
that circle. Armed foes came down,
but were obliged to halt at the circle
they could not pass. But one day a
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 back? This,
/ 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 worried
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 nc
answer, but soon died. There is q
clock scene in every history. If some
of you would rise from the bed o.
lethargy and come out of your deliriun
of sin, and look on the clock of YOU
| destiny this moment, you would see
and hear something you have not seer
or heard before, and every tick of the
minute, and every stroke of the hour
and every swing of the pendulum
would say: Nov, now, now, now!
Oh, come home to your Fathers house
Come home, oh, prodigal, from thu
wilderness. Come home, come home
| You remember reading the story o
a king, who on some great day of fes
tivity scattered silver and gold anon!
the people, who sent valuabl present
| to his courtiers; but methinks when
soul comes back, God is so glad that t.
express his joy he filings out new
worlds into space, kindles up new
suns, and rolls among the white robe,
| anthems of the redeemed create
halleluiah, while with a voice tina
reverberates among the mountains o
| franlSincense and is echoed back iron
the everlasting gates, he cries: ''This
my son, was dead and is alive again.
At the opening of the exposition il
New Orleans, j saw a Mexican flutist
and he played the solo, and then after
ward the eight or ten bands of music
accompanied by the great organ, cam
in; but the sound of that one flute a
compared with all the orchestra, wa
greater than all the combined Joy {