The Penn's Grove record., 1894-08-31


| shares Of infinite value in a city WHOSE
streets are gold, whose harpS are gold,
whose crowns are COLL. You have r5a
Of the crusllers-iow that many thou.
sands of them went OF to conquer the
holy s%apulcher. | ask you to join a gran Ter
crusade, not for the purpose OF %conduerins
the sepulcher OF a dead Christ, but for the
| purpose of reaching the throne OF a living
| Jesus. When an army is to be mlds up, the
| recruiting officer Samine the vol
lnteers. He teststheir eyesight. he sounds
heir lungs. he measures their stature. They
must be just right orthey ara rejected. But
there shall be no plrtiality in making W
his army OF Christ. Whatever your mora,
or physical stature, WI lteyer your dissipa.
ions, whatever your weakness, 1 have n
commission from the Lori Almighty to make
up this regiment of relssn9l souls, and 1
Try, 'Ariss ye AMI depart, for this is not
your rest
Many OF you hava lately iolnsl this COM
oany. and my desire is that you may all JOIN
1t. Why not? You know in your own hearts
experience that what L have sail about this
world is true-th1t it is no place to rest in.
! There are hundreds here w~aary-oh, how
| wearyi-weary with sin, weary with trouble,
weary with bereavement. Some OF you nave
been pierced through and through. You
carry the scars of a THOUSAND conflicts, in
1 w ADl nave AS Z AA ~ go -
sigh, "Oh. that L hal the wings of a dove,
hat I might fly away AMI b5 at restl You
have taken the cup Of this worlds pleasures
and drunk it to the dregs, and still the thirst
flaws at you tongue, aud the lever strikes
% your brain. You have chased pleasure
through every valley, by every stream, anl1
svery brightness and under every shallow,
out lust at the moment when you were ready
10 put your hand upon the rosy, laughing
sylph of the wool she turned upon you with
the glare of a fien1 and the eye OF a satyr,
her locks adders anil her breath the chill
damp Of a grave. Out OF Jesus Christ no
rest, No voice to silence the storm. No
light to kindle the darkness. No dry dock
| o repair the split bulwark.
Thank Col, L can tell you something BET
Ter. II there is no rest on earth, there Is
rest in heaven. Oh, ye VIII are worn out
with work, your hands calloused, your hacks
bent. your eyes half put out. your fingers
worn with the needle that in this world you
may never lay down. ye discouraged ones
who nave been wagins n hand hSht 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, hear metalk about
rest
Look at that company of enthronel ones.
| Look at their hands; look at their feet g,
| look ut their eyes. 1t cannot be that those
4 DflguI ones ever lpiltlE It5g gOos AANoo
| packed the Chinese teaboxes, and through
missionary instruction escaped into glory.
These sYelterei on Southern plantations
| and one night after the cotton picking wen
To as white as il they hal never been black.
+, Those died OF o~vertoil 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 is done. No more
rurments to weave the robes are finished.
No more harvests to raise the garners are
full, Oh, sons and daughters Of toll, artist
We and depart, for that is your rest!
Scovill MeCallum, a boy OF my sunday
| 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 hand over his
heart, said, ''Fhere is rest for me-"
Oh. We whose locks are wet with the dew
of the night OF grief ye whose hearts are
| heavy because those we'll known footsteps
sound no more ut the doorway, yonder is
your rest There is David triumphant. oui
| once he bemoaned Absalom. There is Abra'
ham 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 agOnlzlng cough TO-
| night. No storm to rulhe the crystal sea.
No alarm to strike from the cathedral
| towers. No dirge ~throboing from seraphit
harps. No tremor i'll the everlasting song
| but rest-perfect r~est-unendtng rest.
Into that rest how many Of our loved ones
! have gone! The little children had beer
gathered up into the bosom of Christ. One
| Of them went out Of the arms of a widowed
| mother, following its father, who died a few
| weeks before. Iu its last moment II seemed
to see the departed father, for it said, look
ing upward with frightened countenance
Papa, take me uD!'
Others put down the work OF mid life, feel
ing they could hardly be spared fro NJ the of
flee or store or shop for a day, but are to be
spared from it forever. Your mother went.
Having lived a life of Christian consistency
| here, ever busy with Hndness for her chill
| dren, her heart full of that meek and quiet
spirit that is in the sight OF God great price,
suddenly her countenance was TRANSPORTED,
and the gate was opened, and she took her
| place amid that great cloud OF witnesses thar
hover about the throne.
Glorious consolationl Theyare not dead
You cannot make mo believe they are dead.
| They have only moved on. With more Iowa
than that with which they greet US on earth,
they watch US from their high place, and
their voices cheer US in our struggles forthe
sky. Hail, spirits blessed, now that ye have
passed the food and won the crown! With
weary feet we press " the shining way, I'M
| iii in everlasting reunion We shall meet
again. On. won't it be grand when, our
conflicts done and our pHrtings over, we
| shall clasp hands and cry out, This Is
heaven"