The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1895-09-27

70 cross, His hand could transport me-
Then let Stephens prayer be my dy.
ing litanyi Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit" IT may be in that hour we
will be too feeble 60 say long prayers
1t may be in that hour we will not be
able to say the Lords Prayer" for it
has seven petitions Perhaps ne may
be too feeble even to say the infant
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.
pray 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 50 short, IS
SO concise, Is SO earnest; IS SO compre-
heDsive, we surely will be able TO say
that: Lord Jesus; receive my spirit.
Oh, if that prayer is answered. how
sweet it viii be to diel This world Il
clever enough to us. Perhaps 1t haE
treated us great deal better than we
deserved to be treatedI 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 small. dark, damp house for one
large, beautiful. and capaciotis. 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"
Pass on, now, and l 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 place that was to
sleepp A hard rock under him, stones
falling down upon him, the blood
streaming, the mob bowling. What
place it was to sleepI' And yet my
text takes that symbol of slumber TO
describe his departure, so sweet was it,
so contented was il, so peaceful was it.
Stephen had lived a 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
feet lie had sandaled, how many cots
of sickness and distress he had blessed
with ministries of kindness and love,
do not know; yet from the way he
AAFOd8 anu Vic way nC pEOdNHCOg 6AA
the way he died, know he was la
borious Christian. But that is all
over now. He has pressed the cup to
the last fainting lip. lie 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 comet They take him upl 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 asleepl
have seen the sea driven with the
hurricane until the tangled foam
caught in the rigging, and wave ris-
ing above wave seemed as If about to
storm the heavens, and then l have
seen the tempest drop, and the waves
crouch, and everything become smooth
and FURNISHED as though a camping
place for the glories of Heaven. So
have seen man, whose life has been
tossed and driven, coming down at
last to an infinite calm, in which there
was hush of Heavens lullaby. Ste
phen asleepl
/ saw such an one. Tie 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
his pillow, and while the world faded.
Heaven dawned, and the deepening
twilight of earth's night was only the
opening twilight of Heavens morn
Not sigh. Not tear. Not struggle.
Hushl 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 drought or not. can not tell by
the blowing of the wind whether it
will be fair weather or foul on the
morrow. But l can prophesy. and
will prophesy what weather it will be
when you, the Christian, come to die.
You may have it very rough now. 1t
may be this week one annoyance, the
next another annoyance. It 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, the
odors of Gods hanging garden will re-
gale your soul, and at your bedside
will halt the chariot of the king. No
moro rents to pay, no more agony be-
cause -four has gone up. no more strug-
gle with 1.-THE world, the flesh and the
devil" but peace--long. deep, everlast-
Ing peace. Stephen asleep!
Asleep In Jesus, blessed sleep.
From which none can ever wake to weep;
A calm and undtsturbed rcpose,
Unintured by the last of foes.
Asleep in Jesus, far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be;
But there IS still n blessed sleep,
From which none ever wake to weep.
You have seen enough for one day.
No one can successfully examine more
than five pictures in day. Therefore
we stop, having seen this cluster OF
divine Raphaels-Stephen gazing into
''eaven; Stephen looking ut Christ;
sphen stoned; Stephen in his prayer
stephen asleep
Unconscious Christians.
l have long believed that there are
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