The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1894-04-13

instead of drowning his trouble, he
browns his body and browns his soul.
But here is a Christian young man.
Trouble comes to him. Does he give
up? No! He throws himself back on
the resources of Heaven. He says
God is my father. Out of all these
disasters l shall pluck advantage for
my soul. All the promises are mine,
Christ is mine, Christian companion
ship is mine, Heaven is mine. What
though my apparel be worn out?
Christ gives me a robe of righteous.
ness. What though my money be
gone? hare a title deed to the whole
universe in the promise, All are yours
What though my worldly friends fall
away? Ministering angels are my
bodyguard. What though my fare be
poor and my bread be scant? ! sit at
the Kings banquet
Oh, what poor, shallow stream is
worldly enjoyment compared with the
deep, broad, overlooking river of Gods
peace, rolling midway in the Christian
heart. Sometimes you have gone out
on the iron-bound beach of the sea
when there has been a storm on the
ocean, and you have seen the waves
lash into white foam at your feet
They did not do you at harm. While
there you thought of the chapter writ
ten by the Psalmis, and perhaps you
recited it to youself while. the storm
was making commentary upon the
passage: God is our refuge and
strength, very present help in time
of trouble. Therefore will l not fear,
though the earth be removed and
though the mountains be carried into
the midst of the sea, though the waters
thereof roar and be troubled, though
the mountains shake with the swelling
thereof" Oh, how Independent the
religion of Christ makes Il man of
worldly success and worldly circum-
stances! Nelson, the night before his
last battle, saidi Tomorrow 1 shall
win either a peerage or a grave in
Westminster abbey" And it does not
make much difference to the Christian
whether he rises or falls in worldly
matters; he has everlasting renown
anyway. Other plumage may be torn
in the blast, but that soul adorned
with Christian grace is fairer than the
dove, its wings covered with silver, and
It's feathers with gold
You and have found out that peo-
pie who pretend to be happy are not
always happy. Look at that young
man caricaturing the Christian relig-
ION, sCUffihg at everything good. going
into registering drunkenness, dashing
the champagne bottle to the floor, roll
ing the glasses from the bar-room
counter, laughing, shouting, stamping
the floor. Is he happy? l will go to
his midnight pillow. l will see him
turn the gas off. / will ask myself if
the pillow ON which he sleeps is as soft
as the pillow on which that pure
young man sleeps. All! no. When he
opens his eyes in the morning, will the
world be as bright to him as that young
man who retired at night saying his
prayers, invoking Gods blessing upon
his own soul and the souls of his COM
rades, and father and mother, and
brothers and sisters far away? No,
no! His laugh will ring out from the
saloon so that you hear it as you pass
by, but it is hollow laughter; in it is
the swapping of heart-strings and the
rattle Of prison gates Happy! that
young man happy?
Let him fill high the bowl; he can
not drown an upbraiding conscience.
Let the balls roll through the bowling
ALLEYS the deep rumble and the sharp
crack can not OverpOwer the voices of
cOndemna ton. Let him whirl in the
dance of sin and temptation and death.
All the brilliancy of the scene can not
make him forget the last look of his
mother when he left home, when she
said to him: Now, my son, you will
do right; l am sure you will do right:
20 will, won't you?" That young man
happy? Why, across every night there
fit shadows of eternal darkness; there
are adders eoiled upin every cup) there
are vtltures of despair striking their
iron beaks into his heart; there are
skeleton fingers of grief pinching at
the throat.
1 come in amid the clicking of the
glasses and under the flashing of the
chandeliers, and ! cry: "Woe! woe!
The way of the ungodly shall perish.
There is no peace, saith God, to the
wicked. The way of the transgressors
is hard" Oh, my friends, there is
more joy in one drop of Christian salts
faction than in the whole rivers of sin
full delight. Other wings may be
drenched of the storm and splashed of
the TEMPEST, but the dove that comes
in through the window of this heaven
ly ark has wings like the dove covered
with silver, and her feathers with yell
low gold.
Again | remark, religion is an adorn-
ment in the style of usefulness into
which it inducts man. Here are two
young men. The one has fine culture,
exquisite wardrobe, plenty of friends,
great worldly success, but he lives for
himself. His chief care is for his own
comfort. He lives uselessly. He dies
unregretted. Here is another young
man. His apparel may not be
so good, his education may
not be so thorough He lives for
others, His happiness is to make 9TH
ers happy. He is as sclf-denying as
that dying soldier, falling in the ranks,
when he said: Colonel, there is no
need of those boys firing themselves
by carrying me to the hospital; let me
die just where l am" So this young
man of whom l speak, loves God, wants
all the world to love him, is not
ashamed to carry bundle of clothes
up that dark alley to the poor. Which
of those young men do you admire the
better? The one a sham, the other
prince imperial.
Oh, do you know anything, my
nearer, that is more beautiful to see
than young man start out for Christ?
Here is some one falling; he lifts him