Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1895-07-06

Of an incenscd God. lrally you to O
besiegement of the gates Of hell. We
want i'll this besieging host no soft sen.
timentalists, but men who are willing
to take and give hard knocks. The gates
of GAIA were carried off. the gates Of
Thebes were battered down, the gates
of Babylon were destroyed, and the gates
of hell are going to BIO FRUSTRATED.
The Christianized printing press will
be rolled up us the chief battoring ram.
Then there will be long list of aroused
pulpits, which shall be assailing for
tresses, and Gods redhot truth shall be
the flying ammunition Of the contest,
and the sappers and the miners will lay
the train under these foundations Of sin,
and at just the right time God, who
leads on the fray, will cry, Down with
the gates p and the explosion beneath
will be answered by all the trumpets Of
God ON high, celebrating universal vic.
tory.
But there may be one wanderer that
would like to have kind word calling
homeward. have told you that society
has no mercy. Did hint, at an earlier
point in this subject, that God will have
mercy upon any wanderer who would
like to come back to the heart Of infinite
love?
A Lost Wandercr.
A cold Christmas night in farm
l. n. 10,
knocks the SNOW from his shoes and sits
down by the fire. The mother sits at the
stand knitting. She says to him, "Do
you remember it is the anniversary to-
night?" The father is angered He new
er wants any allusion to the fact that
one had gone away, and the mere sug-
gestion that it was the anniversary Of
that sad event made him quite rough,
although the tears ran down his cheeks.
The old house dog that had played with
the wanderer when she was child comes
up and puts his head on the old mans
knee, but he roughly repulses the dog.
He wants nothing to remind him Of the
anniversary day.
A cold winter night in city church.
1t is Christmas night. They have been
decorating the sanctuary. A lost wan
derer of the street, with thin shawl
about her, attracted by the warmth and
light, comes in and sits near the door.
The minister of religion is preaching Of
him who was wounded for our trans
gressions and bruised for our iniquities,
and the poor soul by the door said:
"Why, that must mean me! Mercy for
the chief of sinners; bruised for our in
Equities; wounded for our transgres-
sions.
The music that night in the sanctuary
brought back the old hymn which she
used to sing when, with father and
mother, she worshiped God in the vii
lage church. The service over, the min
lister went down the aisle. She said to
him: "Were those words for me?
Wounded for our transgressions. Was
that for me:" The man of God under
stood her not. He knew not how to COM
fort shipwrecked soul, and he passed
on, and he passed out. The poor wander
er followed into the street.
Return OF the Lost.
"What are you doing here, .Meg?"
said the police. what are you doing
here tonieht ~ n q oh, 2 she replied, 81
was in to y.e4o.. Gay aaIe's, y And then the
Vel lls 49, 49, Was t osse.
She passed on ~oown the street, falling
from exhaustion, recovering herself
again, until after awhile she reached the
outskirts of the city, and passed on into
the country road. 1t seemed so familiar.
She kept on the road, and she saw in the
distance light in the window. All,
that light had been cleaning there ey-
cry night since she went away. On that
country road she passed until she came
to the garden gate She opened it and
passed up the path where she played in
childhood. She came to the steps and
looked in at the fire on the hearth. Then
she put her fingers to the latch. Oh, if
that door had been locked she would
have persisted on the threshold, for she
was near to death But that door had
not been locked since the time she went
away. She pushed open the door. She
went in and lay down on the hearth by
the fire. The old house dog growled as
he saw her enter, but there was some
thing in the voice he recognized, and he
frisked about her until he almost pushed
her down in his joy.
In the morning the mother came
down. and she saw bundle of rags on
the hearth, but when the face was up
lifted, she knew it, and it was no more
old Meg of the street. Throwing her
arms around the returned prodigal, she
cried, "Oh, Maggier" The child threw
her arms around her mothers neck and
said, ooh, mother!" And while they
were embraced rugged form lowered
above them. 1t was the father. The Sc
verify all gone out Of his face, he stoop-
ed and took her up tenderly and carried
her to mothers room and laid her down
on mothers bed, for she was dying.
Then the lost one, looking up into her
mother face said: Wounded for our
transgressions, and bruised for our in
iquities' Mother, do you think that
means me2' "Oh, yes, my darling"
said the mother IF mother is 30 glad
to get you back, don't you think God ia
glad to get you back!"
And there she lay dying, and all their
dreams and all their prayers were filled
with the words, Wounded for our trans
gressions, and bruised for our iniqui-
ties, y" until, just before the moment OF
her departure, her face lighted up, show
ing the pardon Of God had dropped upon
her soul. And there she slept away on
the bosom of pardoning Jesus. So the
Lord took back one whom the world re-
jected.
Ten Miles Above Your Head.