Connecticut western news., 1896-10-08

to cycle, from con to con. And so for all you Christian people do what John G. Whittier, the dying poet said he he wasl sat with him in haymow a whole summer afternoon and heard him tell the story of his life. He had for many years heen troubled with insomnia and was a very poor sleeper, and he al- ways had the window csrtain of his room up so as to see the first intimation of sunrise. When he was breathing his last, in the morning hour, in his home ill the Massachusetts village, the nurse thought that the light of rising sun was too strong for him and so pulled the window curtain down. The last thing the great Quaker poet did was to wave his hand to have the curtain up. He wanted todepart in the full gush of the morning. And I thought it might be helpful and inspiring to all Christian souls to have more light about the fu- ture, and so pull up the curtain in the glorious sunrise of my text and say, Rejoice that your names are written in heaven. Bring on your doxologiesl Wave your palmsl Shout your victoriesl Pull up all the curtains of bright expeo- tationsl Yea, hoist the window itself. and let the perfume of the morning glories' of the kings garden come in and the music of harps all a-tremble with symphonies, and the sound of the surf of seas dashing to the foot of the throne of God and the Lamb.
 In Red Ink.
 But there is only one word on all this subject of divine chirography in heaven that confuses me, and that is the small adverb which St John adds when he quotes the text in Revelation and speaks of some "whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain. !" Oh, that awful adverb "notp By full submission to Christ the Lord have the way all cleared between you and the sublime registration of your name this moment Why not look up and see that they are all ready to put your name among the blissful immortals? There is the mighty volume. It is wide open. There is the pen. It is from the wing of the "angel of the new covenant" !" There is the ink. It is red ink from Calvarean sacrifice. And there is the divine Scribe tho glorious Lord who wrote your fa- ther's name there, and your mothers name there, and your child's name there, and who is ready to write your name there. Will you consent that he do it? Before I say Amen" to this service ask him to do it wait mo- ment for the tremendous action of your will, for it is only an action of your will. Here some one says, Lord Jesus, with pen plucked from angelic wing and dipped in the red ink of Golgotha, write there either that which is now my earthly name or that which shall be my heavenly name" I pause a second longer. that all may consent. The pen of the divine Scribe is in the fingers and is lifted and is lowered, and it touches the shining page, and the word is traced in trembling and bold and un- mistakable letters He has put it down h the right place.
 'Tis donei The great transaction's donei
 am my Lords. and he is mine.
 And if there be in all this assembly 8 hopeless case, so called hopeless by your self and others, take the responsibility
 
 book where your name would exactly it in and look beautiful and you can, quicker than can clap my hands to- gether, have it there. A religious meet ing was thrown open, and all those who could testify of the converting grace oi God were asked to speak. Silence reigned moment, and then @ man covered with the marks of dissipation arose and Aaid: You can see from my looks what I have been, but am now a saved man. When I left home a thou. sand miles from here, had so disgraced my fathers name that he saA. 'As you are going away I have only two things to ask of you-frst, that you will never come home again, and, next, you will change your name l prom ised. I have not heard my real name for years went the whole round oi sin until there was no lower depth tc fathom. But I am by the grace of God changed man. 1 wrote home asking forgiveness for my waywardness, ano here are two letters, one from father and another from my sister. My mothe, died of broken heart. But these two letters ask me to come home, and. boys l start tomorrow morning" The fact was that his name was written il heaven, where I pray God all of oul names may be written though so un worthy are the best of us and all of us If you have ever been in the thicl woods and heard the sound of village bells you know the sound is hinderec and muffled by the foliage, though somewhat sweet but as you come tC the edge of the woods the sounds be come clearer and more charming, ant when you step out from the deep shad ows into the sunlight you hear tht full. round, mellifluous ringing of thu bells. Oh, ye down in the thick shad ows of unbelief and who hear only tn, faint notes of this gospel bell, come out into the clear sunlight of pardon ant peace and hear the full chime of eterna harmonies from all the towers of heaven. Oh, come out of the woods!