Owingsville outlook. [volume] (Owingsville, Ky.) 1879-192?, 1896-10-22
Again. I rsmafA,fn grace a. in the

farm there must be a reaping. Many
Christians speak of religion rs though
il were a matter OF economics or insur-
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. Ii you have not as
much grace a. you would like
to have, thank God for what
you have, and pray for more. You
are no worse enslaved than Joseph, no
worse trouble than was David, no
worse scourge than was Paul Yet,
amid the rattiihg OF letters, and amid
the gloom of dungeons, and amid the
horror of shipwreck, they triumphed
In the grace of God. The weakest
man in the house to-day has 500 acres
of spiritual joy all ripe. Why do
you not go and reap ~ You
have been groaning over your In
firmities for 80 years. Now give
one round shout over your emancipa-
tion. You say you have il SO hard; you
might have 1t worse. You wonder why
this great cold trOublc keeps revolving
through your soul, turning and turn
ing with a black hand ON the crank.
All, that trouble is the grindstone on
which You are to sharpen your sickle
To the fields! Wake up! Take off
your green spcctacles. Pull mp the
corners of your mouth as far as you
pull them down. To the fields, ReaJi
feapi
Again, remark, in grace as in farm
ing, there ia a time for threshing tell
you bluntly that is death. Just as the
farmer with a fail beats the wheat outs
of the straw. so death beats the soul
out of the holy. Every sickness Is a
stroke of the llail and the sick-bed is
the threshing- floor. What, say you, is
death to a good man but taking the
| wheat one 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 received the message to leave
this world. He bale pleasant good
bye to his old friends. The telegraph
carries the tidings. and on swift rail-
trains the kindred come, wanting once
more 10 look on the face of dear old
grandfather. Brush back the gray
hairs from his brow; it will never ache
| again. Put him away in the slumber
| of the tomb. He will not lie
afraid of that night Grandfather was
never raid of anything. He will rise
in the morning Of the resurrection.
Grandfather was always the first to
rise. His voice has alreaj, mingled in
the doxology of Heaven. Grandfather
always did sing in chur 3. '1ythiHg
CHASTITY in thata No. The lhrr-h'Ug
of the wheat out of the straw. That -
all
The Saviour folds a lamb in. His bosom.
The little child filled 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 triumph. What il the voice
that made music in the home is still?
1t will wave in the eternal tri-
umph. What il the voice that
made music in the home is still?
1t will sing the eternal hosanna.
Put a white rose in one hand, a red
rose in the other, 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. Any
thing CHASTITY about that? Oh, no!
The sun went down and the flower
shut. The wheat thrlshed out of the
straw. Dear Lord, give me Sleep"
said n 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 a letter of
coincidence to those parents, said:
Those last words were beautifully
poetic And Mr.. Longfellow knew
what is poetic. Dear Lord, give me
sleep"
Twas not in cruelv, not in wrath
| That the reaper me tn Il 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. "Dsar Lord, give me
| Slaan