Semi-weekly independent., 1896-04-25
sea across to the Atlantic. An island no.

sea across 10 the Atlantic. An Island NOT
bounded as geographers tell us. but as
every philanthropist knows-bounded On
the north and the south and the east and
the west by woe which no human politics
can alleviate and only Almighty God can
assuage. Land Of Goldsmith's rhythm.
and Sheridan's wit, and O'Connelrs elo-
quence, and Edmund Burke's statesman
ship. and O'Briep's sacrifice. Another
Patmos with its apocalypse of blood Yet
you cannot think Of it to-day without hav-
ing your eyes blinded with emotion, for
there your ancestors sleep in graves. some
OF which they entered for lack Of bread.
For this royal exile of my sermon l be-
speak the love and the service Of all Irish
eXlles. Yes, some Of you are from Ger
many, the land of Luther, and some of
you are from Italy, the land of Garibaldi.
and some Of you are from France. the
land Of John Calvin, one of the three
mlghties OF the glorious reformation.
Some of you are descendants of the Puri-
tans, and they were exiles, and some of
You are descendants Of the Huguenots,
and they were eXiles and some of you are
descendants Of the Holland refugees. and
they were exiles.
Heaven the Exile's Home.
Some of you were born on the banks of
the Yazoo or the Savannah, and you are
now living in this latitude; some of you
on the banks Of the Kennebec or at the
foot of the Green mountains. and you are
here now; some Of you on the prairies Of
the West or the tablelands, and you are
here now. Oh, how many of US far away
from home. All of us exiles. This is not
our home. Heaven is our home. Oh, l
am so glad when the royal exile went back
he left the gate ajar or left it wide open.
Going home." That is the dying ex-
clamation of the majority Of Christians.
L have seen many Christians die | think
nine out of ten of them in the last moment
say. Going home" Going home out Of
punishment and sin and sorrow and sad
ness. Going home to join in the hilarities
OF our parents and our dear children who
have already departed. Going home to
Christ. Going home to God. Going home
to stay. Where are your loved ones that
died in Christ? You pity them. All. they
ought to pity you . You are an exile far
from home They are home. Oh. what
time it will he for you when the gate
keeper Of heaven shall say: Take off that
rough sandal. The journeys ended. Put
down that saber. The battles won. Put
oil that iron coat of mail and put on the
robe OF conquerOr." AT that gate Of tri-
umph L leave you to-day, only reading
three tender cantos translated from the
Italian. If you ever heard anything
sweeter. | never did, although l cannot
adopt all its theology:
Twas whispered one morning in heaven
How the little child angel May,
In the shade of the great while portal.
Sat sorrowing night and day;
How she said to the stately warden,
He Of the key and bar:
"Oh, angel, sweet angel, pray you
Set the beautiful gates ajar,
Only little. l pray you,
Set the beautiful gates ajar.
Il can hear my mother weeping.
She is lonely: she cannot see
A glimmer Of light in the darkness
When the gates shut after me-
Oh. turn me the key, sweet angel,
The splendor will shine so far"
But the warden answered, Il dare not
Set the beautiful gates ajar''
Spoke low and answered, IL dare not
Set the beautiful gates ajar."
Then up rose Mary, the blessed.
Sweet Mary, the mother OF Christ.
Her hand on the hand of the angel
She laid, and her touch sufficed.
Turned was the key in the portal,
Fell ringing the golden bar,
And, 10, in the little child's fingers
Stood the beautiful gates ajar,
In tl,n l.. IL,
Stood the beautiful gates ajar.