The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1896-05-01

|
stoned than that of Pollock, more ten
der than that Of Cowper, more weird
than that of Spencer.
! This great poem brings all the gems
Of the earth into its coronet, and 1T
weaves the flames of judgment into It's
garlands, and pours eternal harmonies
in its rhythm. Everything this book
touches it makes beautiful, from the
| plain stones of the summer threshing-
floor to the daughters of Major fill!ng
the trough for the camels; from the fish
pools of Heshbon up to the Psalmist
praising God with the diapason OF
storm and whirlwind, and Jobs imag-
cry of Orion, Arcturus and the Pleiades.
My text leads us into a scene of sum
mer redolence. The world has had a
great many beautiful gardens. Charlie
magne added to the glory of his reign
| by decreeing that they be established
all through the realm-deciding even
the names of the flowers to be planted
there. Henry ", at Montpelier, estab-
| lished gardens of bewitching beauty
and luXuriance, gathering into them AL
pine, Pyrenean and French plants. One
| of the sweetest spots on earth was the
garden of Shenstone, the poet. His
writings have made but little impress
sion on the world; but his garden, The
Leasowes," will be immortal. To the
natural advantage of that place was
brought the perfection Of art. Arbor
and terrace and slope and rustic temple
and reservoir and urn and fountain mere
| had their browning. Oak and yew and
| hazel put forth their richest foliage.
There was no life more diligent, no soul
more ingenious, than that of Shenstone,
and all that diligence and genius he
brought to the adornment of that one
| treasured spot. He gave three hun
dred pounds for it, he sold it for seven
teen thousand. And yet / am to tell
| you today of richer garden than any
l have mentioned. 1t is the garden
spoken of in my text the garden of the
| Church, which belongs to Christ. He
| bought it, he planted it, he owns it, and
he shall have it. Walter Scott, in his
outlay at Abbotsford, ruined his tor
| tune; and now, in the crimson flowers
| or imagine that you see the blood of
that old mans broken heart. The
payment of the last one hundred thou
sand pounds sacrificed him. But /
have to tell you that Christ's life and
| Christ's death were the outlay of this
| beautiful garden of the Church, of
which nay text speaks. Oh how many
| io1, nd nc
Tell me, We women who saw him hang!
Tell me, we eXecutioners who lifted him
and let him down! Tell me, thou sun
that didst hide: we rocks that fell.
Christ loved the Church, and gave him
self for it, If the garden of the Church
| belongs to Christ, certainly he has a
right to walk in it. Come, thou, o
blessed Jesus, today; walk up and down
these aisles and pluck what thou wilt of
sweetness for myself.
The Church, in my text, is appropri-
ately compared to a garden, because it
| is the place OF choice flowers, of select
fruits, and of thorough irrigation. That
would be a strange garden in which
there were no flowers. If nowhere else,
they would be along the borders or at
the gateway. The homeliest taste viii
dictate something, if it be only the old
fashioned hollyhock, or dahlia or daGfo-
dill; but if there be larger means. then
You will find the Mexican cactus, the
blazing azalea, and clustering oleander.
Well, now Christ comes to his garden
and he plants there some of the bright
est spirits that ever lowered the world.
Some of them are violets, inconspicu-
Gus, but sweet as heaven. You have TO
search and find them. You do not see
them very often, perhaps, but you see
where they have been by the frightened
| face of the invalid, and the sprig of
geranium on the stand, and the new
window curtains keeping out the glare
of the sunlight. They are, perhaps,
more like the ranunculus, creeping
sweetly along amid the thorns and
hriars of life, giving kiss for sting; and
many man who has had in his way
| some great black rock of trouble, has
found that they had covered it all over
with fowery jasmine, running in and
out amid the crevices. These flowers
in Christs garden are not, like the sun
flower, gaudy in the light, but wherever
darkness hovers over a soul that needs
TO be comforted, there they stand,
| night blooming cereuses.
But in Christ's garden there are
plants that may be better compared to
| the Mexican cactus-thorns without,
| loneliness within; men with sharp
points Of character. They wound al
| most everyone that touches them.
They are hard to handle. Men pro-
nounce them nothing but thorns, but
| Christ loves them Notwithstanding all
their sharpness. Many a man has had
very hard ground to cultivate, and 1t
has only been through severe trial he
has raised even the smallest crop Of
grace. very harsh minister was talk
Ing to very placid elder, and the placid
elder said to the harsh minister, DOC
tor, I do wish you would control your
temper" "Ah." said the minister to the
elder, 'T control more temper in Eve
'nilnses thar you do in five years."