The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1896-04-22

that lllumlneS your face when men-
tion the land of your nativity.
Bonnie Seotlandl Dear old kirk!
Some of your ancestors sleep in Grey
friars. .churchyard, or by the deep lochs
filed out of the pitchers of Heaven, or
under the heather sometimes so deep
of color it makes one think of the blood
of the Covenanters who signed their
names for Christ, dipping their pens into |
the veins OF their arms opened for that
purpose, How every fiber of your
nature thrills as mention the names
of Robert Bruce, and the Campbells,
and Cochrane. bespeak for this royal
exile of my text the love and the serv-
ice of all Scotch exiles. Some of you
are Englishmen. Your ancestry served
the Lord Have l not read of the suf-
ferings of the Haymarllet? and have l
not seen in 0Xfcr1 the very spot where
Ridley and Latimer mounted the red
chariot? Some of your ancestors heard
George Whitefeld thunder, or heard
Charles Wesley sing, or heard John
Bunyan tell his dream of the celestial
city; and the cathedrals under the
shadow of which some of you were
born had in their grandest organ-roll
the name Of the Messiah. | bespeak
for the royal exile of my sermon the
love and the service of all English
exiles Yes, some of you came from
the island of distress over which Hun
ger, on q throne of human skeletons,
sat queen. All efforts at amelioration
halted by massacre. Procession of
famines, procession of martyrdoms
marching from Northern Channel to
Cape Clear, and from the Irish sea
across 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 ale
viate, and only almighty God can as
suage. Land of Goldsmiths rhythm,
and Sheridan's wit, and O'Connell's
eloquence, and Edmund Burke's states
manship, and O'Brien's sacrifice. An
other Patmos with its apocalypse of
blood. Yet you cannot think of it to-
day without having 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 bespeall the
love and service of all Irish eXiles.
Yes, some of you are from Germany
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
: mighties of the glorious Reformation.
Some Of you are descendants of the
, Puritans, 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 ex-
! lies. Some of you were born on the
banks of the Yazoo or the Savannah,
, and you are now living in this lati-
tude. Some of you on the banks of the
3 Kennebec or at the foot of the Greer
: Mountains, and you are here now
Some of you on the prairies of the
t west, or the tablelands, and you are
v here new. Obi how many of us fal
\ away from home. All of us eXiles
e This is not our home Heaven IS oul
a home. Oh! am SO glad when the roya
1 exile went back He left the gate aiar
e or left it wide open. "Going home!
= That is the dying exclamation of thu
n majority of Christians. l have seer
many Christians die. think nine ou
e of ten of them in the last moment say
l. "Going home" Going home out Of ban
# ishment and sin and sorrow and sad
G ness. Going home to join in the hilar
/, ities of our parents and our dear chill
g dren, who hpve already departed. Go
v ing home to Christ. Going home t,
= God. Going home to stay. Where ar
# your loved ones that died in Christ
g You pity them. All! they ought to pit,
d you. You are an exile far from home
o They are home Oh! what a time i
e will be for you when the gatekeepe
II of Heaven shall say: Take off tina
|. rough sandal; the journeys ended
l. Put down that saber; the battles won
k Put off that iron coat of mail and pu
q on the robe of the conqueror." At tina
n gate of triumph l leave you to-day
e only reading three tender cantos trans
,e lated from the Italian. If you eve
e heard anything sweeter l never did
although | cannot adopt all its theol
r. ogy:
- Twas whispered one morning in Heaven
= How the little child-angel, May,
W In the shade OF the great white portal
l. Sat sorrowing night and day
v How she said to the stately warden
h He Of the key and bar
- ''O angel, sweet angel, l pray you
II Set the beautiful gates ajar--
g Only little, pray you,
d Set the beautiful gates aiar.
IL. Il can hear my mother weeping
Il She is lonely, she cannot see
,r A glmmer of light in the darkness,
-. When the gates shut after me.
- o. turn the key, sweet angel,
- The splendor will shine so far"
m But the warden answered, Il dare not
Of Set the beautiful rates ajar;"
70 Spoke low and answered, Il dare not
Set the beautiful gates ajar."
ID Then up rose Mary, the blessed.
m Sweet Mary, the mother OF Christi
Her hand on the hand of the angel
10 She laid, and her touch suficed
n Turned was the key in the portal,
st Fell ringing the golden bar,
- And 10! in the little child's fingers
Stood the beautiful gates ajar.
~ In the little childs angel fingers
I'd Stood the beautiful gates ajar.
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