The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1895-09-28

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quies will be decent and respectful,
and you will be able to pillow your
head under the maple, or the Norway
spruce, or the cypress, or the blossom
ing FIR; but this spirit about which
Stephen prayed. what direction will
that take? What guide will escort itf
What gate will open to receive itf
What cloud will be cleft for its path
way. After 10 has got beyond the light
of our sun, will there be torches light
ed for it the rest of the wayf
| do not care what you do with my
body when my soul is gone, or whether
you believe in cremation or inhuma-
ton. shall sleep just as well in q
wrapping of sackcloth as in satin lined
with eagles down. But my soul-be-
fore close this discourse / will find
out where it will land. Thank God
for the intimation of my text, that
when we die Jesus takes uA That an.
swers all questions for me. What
though there were massive bars be-
tween here and the city of light. Jesus
could remove them. What though
there wete great Saharas of darkness,
Jesus could illume them. What though
got weary on the way. Christ
could lift me on His omnipotent Shout
der. What though there were chasmS
to cross, His hand could transport ma
Then let Stephens prayer be my dy.
ing litany: Lord, Jesus, receive my
spirit" 1t may be in that hour we
will be too feeble to say long prayer.
1t may be in that hour we will not be
able to say the Lords Prayer" for it
has seven petitions. Perhaps we may
be too feeble even to say the infnnt
prayer our mothers taught us, which
John Quincy Adams, seventy years OF
of age, said every night when he put
his head upon his pillow:
Now lay me down to sleep,
Ipray the Lord my soul to keep
We may be too feeble to employ
either Of the these familiar forms; but
this prayer of Stephen is so short, is
so concise, is so earnest, is so compre-
hensive. we surely will be able to say
that: Lord Jesus, receive my spirit"
Oh, if that prayer is answered, how
sweet it will be to diel This world is
clever enough to us. Perhaps it has
treated us a great deal better than we
deserved to be treated; but If on the
dying pillow their shall break the
light of that better world. we shall
have no more regret than about leav-
ing a small. dark, damp house for one
large, beautiful, and capacious. That
dying minister in Philadelphia, some
years ago, beautifully depicted it
when, in the last moment, he threw
up his hands and cried out: 81 move
into the light"
Pass on, now, and will show you
one more picture, and that is Stephen
asleep. With a pathos of simplicity
peculiar to the Scriptures, the text says
of Stephen: "He fell asleep" oh"
you say, what a place that was to
sleepv' A hard rock under him, stones
falling down upon him, the blood
streaming, the mob bowling. What a
place it was to sleep" And yet my
text takes that symbol of slumber to
describe his departure, SO sweet was it,
so contented was it, SO peaceful was it.
Stephen had lived very la borious life.
His chief work had been to care for
the poor. How many loavcs OF bread
he had distributed, how many bare
of sickness and distress he had blessed
with ministries of kindness and love, !
do not know; yet from the way. he
lived, and the way he preached, and
the way he died, know he was la
borious Christian. But that is all
over now. lie has pressed the cup to
the last fainting lip. He has taken
the last insult from his enemies.
The last stone to whose crushing
weight he is susceptible has been
hurled. Stephen is dead. The disci-
pies come! They take him up! They
wash away the blood from the wounds.
They straighten out the bruised limbs
They brush back the tangled hair from
the brow, and then they pass around
to look upon the calm countenance OF
him who had lived for the poor and
died for the truth. Stephen asleep!
/ saw such an one. He fought all
his days against poverty and against
abuse. They traduced his name. They
ratified at the door-knob while he was
dying with duns for debts he could not
pay; yet the peace of God brooded over
hispillow, and while the world faded.
licdNCI dWucu, anu VIC uccpcuiuR
twilight Of earth's night was only the
opening twilight of Heavens morn.
Not sigh. Not tear Not struggle
Hush! Stephen asleep.
have not the faculty as many have
to tell the weather. l can never tell
by the setting sun whether there will
be q drought or not can not tell by
the blowing of the wind whether il
will be fair weather or foul on the
morrow. But l can prophesy, and I
will prophesy what weather 1t will DO
when you, the Christian, come to die.
You may have it very rough now. II
may be this week one annoyance, the
next another annoyance. 1t may be
this year one bereavement the next
another bereavement. But at the last
Christ will come in and darkness will
go out And though there may be no
hand close to your eyes, and no breast
on which to rest your dying head,
and no candle to lift the night, tho
odors OF Gods hanging garden will res
gale your soul, and at your bedside
will halt the chariot OF the king. No
more rents to pay, no more agony be-