The free press., 1895-09-26

, around II. Brave BOluleTS Ol Jesus Chii"N
will hear the carbines click. When | see u
man with voice and money and influence all
| on the right side, and some caricature hlin,
and some sneer at him, and some denounce
him, and men who pretend to be actuated Wy
right motives conspite to cripple him, to cast
him out. to destroy him, J say, "S:ephe"
stoned
When | see man in some great moral OF
religious reform battling against grogshop''
exposing wickedness in high places, ny
active means trying to purify the church an"
better the worlds estate and find that the
newspapers anathematize him, and meh'
even good mel, oppose him and denouhce
him because. though he does good, he doc
not do it in their way, | say, "Stephcn
stoned" But you notice, my friends, that
while they assaulted Stephen they did not
succeed really in killing him. You may as
sault good man, but you cannot kill NM
On the day of his death stephen spoke pc
fore a few people III the sanhedrin. ms
Sabbath morning he addresses Christon-
dom. Paul, the apostle, stood on Mars
hill addressing a handful of philosophers
who knew not so much about science as a
modern schoolgirl. To-day he talks to all
the millions of Christendom about the Won7
ders of justification and the glories OF the
resurrection John Wesley was howled
down by the mob to whom he preached, ana
| they threw bricks at him. and they dc-
nounced him, and they jostled him, and
they spat upon him, aud yet to-day, in all
! lands. he is admitted to be the great father
of Methodism. Booths bullet vacated the
Presidential chair but from that spot OF
coagulated blood on the floor in the box OF
Ford's Theatre there spran6 up the new HE
of a Nation. Stephen stoned, but Stephen
| alive
Pass on now and see stephen in his dying
prayer His first thought was not how the
stones hurt his head. nor what would be-
come of his body. His first thought was
about his spirit. "Jord Jesus receive my
spirit. The murderer standing on the trap
door. the black cap being drawn over his
head before the execution, may grimace
about the future. but you and [ have ne
shame in confessing some anxiety about
where we are going to come out. You are
not all body. There is within you soul.
see it CLEAN from your eyes to-day, and
see it irradiating your countenance. Some
times 1 am abashed before an audience,
not because | come under your physical
eyesight. but because L realize the truth
that / stand before so many immortal
spirits. The probability is that your body
will at last find q sepulcher in some OF the
cemeteries that surround this city. There is
no doubt that your obsequies will be decent
and respectful. and you will be abletO pillow
your head under the maple or the Norway
spruce. or the cypress, or the blossoming Fir,
but this spirit about which Stephen prayed,
what direction will that take? What guide
will escort it? What gate will open to re-
ceiveit? What cloud will be cleft for its
pathway? After it has got beyond the light
of our sun will there be torches lighted Tor
it the rest of the way?
Will the soul have to travel through long
deserts before it reaches the good land? If
we should lose our pathway will there be a
castle at whose gate we may ask the way to
the city2 Oh, this mysterious spirit within
us! 1t has two wings, but it is in II cage now
1t is locked fast to keep it, but let the door
of this cage open the least, and that soul is
off Eagles wing could not catch it. The
lightnings are not swift enough to come up
with it, When the soul leaves the body 1t
takes fifty worlds at Il bound. Aud have l
no anxiety about it? Have you no anxiety
about il?
do not care what you do with my body
when my soul is gone. or whetheryou be-
lieve in cremation or inhumation. / shall
sleep Just as well in a wrapping of sackcloth
as in satin lined with eagles down. But my
soul-before l close this discourse | will find
out where it will land. Thank God for tho
intimation of my text that when we die
Jesus takes us. That answers all questions
for me. What though there were massive
bars between here and the City of Light,
Jesus could remove them. What
though there were great Saharas of
What though l get weary on the way, Christ
could lift me on His omniDotent shoulder.
What though there were chaSmS to cross,
His hand could transport me. Then let
Stephens prayer be my dying 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 fee
BILE even to say the infant prayer our mothers
taught us. which John Quincy Adams, sew
enty years of age. said every night when he
put his head upon his pillow:
Now lay me down to sleep,
l pray the Lord my soul to keep.
We may be too feeble TO employ either OF
these familiar FORMS but this prayer of
Stephen is so short, is 50 concise, is so earn
est, is so comprehensive, 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 die 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 there shall
break the light of that better world we shall
have no more regret than about leaving q
small, dark, damp house for one large, beau
tiful 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, II move
into the light
1 have seen the sea driven with the hurri-
cane until the tangled foam caught in tho
rigging, and wave rising above wave seemed
as if about to storm the heavens, and then I
have seen the tempest drop, and the waves
crouch, and everything become smooth and
FURNISHED as though camping place for the
glories OF heaven. SO | have seen Il man
whose life has been tossed and driven COM
ing down at last to IN infinite calm III which
there was a hush of heavens lullaby.
Stephen asleep!
| saw such Il one. He fought all his days
against poverty and against abuse. They
traduced his name. They ratified ut the
doorknob while he was dying with duns for
debts he could not pay. Yet the peace of
God Erooded over his pillow, and while the
world faded heaven dawned. and the deep
ening twilight of earth's night was only tho
| opening twilight of heavens moru. Not II
sigh, Not a tear. Not struggle. Hush.
| stephen asleep.
have not the faculty as many have to tell
the weather. [ can never tell 10y the setting
sun whether there will be Il drought or not.
l cannot tell by the blowing Of the wind
whether it will be fair weather or foul on the
morrow. But | can prophesy and I will
prophesy what weather ii will be when YOU,
the Christian. come to die. You may have