The Monitor-register., 1896-10-23
The Roaming.

ance. They expect to reap in the next
world. Oh, no! Now is the time to
reap Gather up the joy of the Chris
tian religion this morning, this after
noon, this night. If you have not as
nlucn grace as you would like to have,
thank God for what you have and pray
Tor more. You are no worse enslayed
than Joseph, no worse troubled than
was David, no worse soourged than was
raul. Yet, amid the rafting of letters
and amid the gloom of dungeons and
amid the horror of shipwreok, they tri.
umphed in the grace of God. The weak
est man in the house today has 500
acres OF spiritual joy all ripe. Why do
you not go and reap ita You have been
grooming over your infrmities for 80
years. Now give one round shout over
your emancipation. You say you have
1t SO hard. You might have it worse.
You wonder why this great cold trouble
keeps revolving through your soul,
turning and turning with black hand
on the crank. All, that trouble is the
gr1ndstone on which you are to sharpen
your sickle. To the fields! Wake upl
Take Off your green spectacles, your
blue spectacles, your black spectacles.
Pull up the corners of your mouth as
far as you pull them down. To the
fields! Reap, reap!
The Thrashing.
Again remark, in grace, as in farm
ing, there is time for thrashing. I tell
you bluntly that is death. Just as the
farmer with a fail beats the wheat out
OF the straw, so death beats the soul out
OF the body. Every sickness is stroke
OF the fail, and the sickbed is the
thrashing floor. What. say you, is death
to a good man only taking the wheat
out OF the straw? That is all. An aged
man has fallen asleep. Only yesterday
you saw him in the sunny porch playing
with his grandchildren. Calmly he re-
celved the message to leave this world.
he babe pleasant goodby to his old
friends. The telegraph carries the It'd
lngs, and on swift rail trains the kim
dred come, wanting once more to look
on the face of dear old grandfather.
Brush back the gray hairs from his
brow. 1t will never ache again. Put
him away in the slumber of the tomb.
He will not be afraid of that night.
Grandfather was never afraid of any
thing. He will rise in the morning of
the resurrection. Grandfather was al
ways the first to rise. His voice has al
ready mingled in the doxology Of heav-
en-. Grandfather always did sing in
church. Anything CHASTITY in that? No.
The thrashing of the wheat out of the
straw. That is ALL
The Saviour folds lamb in his bos-
ON. The little child filed all the house
with her music, and her toys are scat
tered all up and down the stairs just as
she left them. What if the hand that
plucked four-o' clocks out Of the meadow
is still? 1t will wave in the eternal tri-
umph. What if the voice that made
music in the home is still? 1t will sing
the eternal hosanna. Put a white rose
in one hand, red rose in the other
hand and a wreath of orange blossoms
on the brow; the white flower for the
victory, the red flower for the Saviour's
sacrifice, the orange blossoms for her
marriage day. Anything CHASTITY about
that? Oh, no! The sun went down and
the flower shut. The wheat thrashed out
of the straw. Dear Lord, give me
Sleep" said dying boy. the son of one
of my elders; "dear Lord, give me
Sleep" And he closed his eyes and
awoke in glory. Henry W. Longfellow,
writing letter of coincidence to those
parents, said, "Those last words were
beautifully poetic" And Mr.. Longfel-
low knew what is poetic. Dear Lord,
give me Sleep
Twas not in cruelty, not in wrath,
That the reaper came that day.
Twas an angel that visited the earth
And took the flower away.
So it may be with US when our work
is all done. "Dear Lord, give me sleep"
The Garnering.
have one more thought to present.
have spoken Of the blowing. of the
sowing, of the narrowing, of the reap
ing, of the thrashing. Unjust now speak
a moment of the garnering.
Where is the garner? Need I tell you?
Oh, mol So many have gone out from
your own ciroles-yea, from your own
family-that you have had your eyes on
that garner for many year. What a
hard time some of them had! In Geth-
semanes of suffering they sweat great
drops of blood. They took the "cup Of
trembling" and they put it to their hot
lips, and they cried, eff it be possible,
let this cup pass from me-" With
tongues of burning agony they cried, so
Lord, deliver my SOUL" But they got
over it. They all got over it. Garneredl
Their tears wiped away; their battles
all ended; their burdens lifted. Gar
nered! The Lord of the harvest will not
allow those sheaves to perish in the
equinox. Garneredl Some of us remem.
Der, on the farm, that the sheaves were
put on the top rack which surmounted
the wagon, and these sheaves were piled
higher and higher, and after awhile the
horses started for the barn, and these
sheaves swayed to and fro in the wind,
and the old wagon creaked, and the
horses made struggle, and pulled so
hard the harness came up in loops Of
leather on their backs, and when the
front wheel struck the elevated door Of
the barn it seemed as if the load would
60 no farther until the workmen gave
great shout, and then, with one last
tremendous strain, the horses pulled in
the load; then they were embarrassed,
and forkful after forkful of grain fell
into the NOW. Oh, my friends. our get
ting to heaven may be pull, hard
pull, very hard pull but these sheaves
are bound to go in. The Lord Of the
harvest has promised it. see the load
at last coming to the door Of the heav.
emily garner. The sheaves Of the Chris
tian soul sway to and fro in the wind Of
death, and the old body creaks under
the load, and as the load strikes the
floor of the celestial garner, it seems as
if it can go no farther. It is the last