The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1897-04-16
SUBSCRIPTION: Sl.O0 Per Year.


use. Oh, that the Lord God of Nehe-
miah would rouse up all broken
hearted people to rebuild. Whipped,
betrayed, shipwrecked, imprisoned,
Paul went right on. The italian mar
tyr Algerius sits in his dungeon writ
ing a letter, and he dates it, From the
delectable orchard of the Leonine
prison" That is what l call
triumphant sadness. 1 knew a
mother who buried her babe on
Friday and on Sabbath appeared
in the house of God and said: "Give
me class; give me a Sabbath-school
class. / have no child now left me, and
l would like to have a class of little
children. Give me real poor childen.
Give me class off the back street" !"
That, / say, is beautiful. That is tri-
umphant sadness. At three o'clock
every Sabbath afternoon, for years, in
beautiful parlor in Philadelphia-a
parlor pictured and statuettes-there
were from ten to twenty destitute chill
dren of the street. Those destitute
children received religious instruction,
concluding with cakes and sandwiches.
How do / know that that was going
on for 16 years? know it in this way:
| That was the first home in Philadel-
phia where 1 was called to comfort
great sorrow. They had a splendid
boy, and he had been drowned at Long
Branch. The father and mother al
most idolized the boy, and the sob and
shrek of that father and mother as
they hung over the coffin resound in
my ears to-day. There seemed to be
no use praying, for when lnelt down
to pray the outcry in the room drowned
out all the prayer. But the Lord
cOmforted that sorrow. They did
not forget their trouble. If you
should go any afternoon into Laurel
Hill you would find a monument with
the word ''Walter'' inscribed upon it,
and wreath of fresh flowers around
the name. / think there was not an
hour in 20 years, winter or summer,
when there was not a wreath of fresh
flowers around Walters name. But
the Christian mother who sent those
flowers there, having no child
left Sabbath afternoons, moth
cred ten or twenty of the lost
ones of the street. That is beau
tiful. That is what 1 call busy and
triumphant sadness. Here is a man
who has lost his property. He does
not go to hard drinking. He does not
destroy his own life. He comes and
says: Harness me for Christian work.
My moneys gone. / have no treasures
on earth. 1 want treasure in Heaven.
I have voice and heart to serve
God" You say that man has not failed.
He has not failed-he has triumphed!
Oh, wish / could persuade all the
people who have any kind of trouble
never to- give up. / wish they would
look at the midnight rider of the text,
and that the four hoofs of that beast
on which Nehemiah rode might
cut to pieces all your discourage
ments, and hardships, and trials.
Give up! Who is going to give
up, Wnen on the bosom of God
he can have all his troubles hushed?
Give up! Never think of giving up.
Are you borne down with poverty? A
little child was found holding her dead
mothers hand in the darkness of tene-
ment, and some one coming in, the lit
tie girl looked up, while holding her
dead mothers hand, and said: ''Oh,
do wish that God had made more
will be your light, God will be your
shelter. God will be your home. Are
you borne down with the bereavements
of life? Is the house lonely now that
the child is gone? Do not give up.
Think of what the old sexton said
when the minister asked him why he
put so much care on the little graves
in the cemetery-So much more care
than on the larger grave-and the
old sexton said: ''Sir, you know that
'of such is the kingdom of Heaven
and l think the Saviour is pleased when
He sees so much white clover growing
around these little graves" But when
the minister pressed the old sexton for
more satisfactory answer, the old sex
ton said, "Sir, about these larger
graves, don't know who are the Lords
saints and who are not; but you know,
sir, it is clean different with the
bairns." Oh, if you had that keen,
tender, indescribable sorrow that
comes from the loss of child, do not
give up. The old sexton was right. 1t
is all well with the BARNS. Or, if you
have sinned, if you have sinned griev-
ously-sinned until you have been cast
out by the church, sinned until you
have been cast out by society-do not
give up: Perhaps there may be in this
house one that could truthfully utter
the la mentation of another:
Once was pure as the snow, but fell
Fell like snowflake, from Heaven to hell
Fell, to be trampled as filth in the street
Fell, to be scoffed at, spit on beat;
Praying, cursing, wishing to die
Selling my soul to whoever would buy.
Dealing in shame for morsel of bread,
Hating the living and fearing the dead
Do not give up. One like unto the
Son of God comes to you to-day, say
ing, go and sin no MORE" while He
cries out to your assistants: LET him
that is without sin cast the fist stone
at her." Oh, there is no rea-
son why anyone in this house,
by reason of any trouble or sin,
should give up. Are you a for
eigner, and in a strange land? Nehe-
miah was an exile. Are you penniless?
Nehemiah was poor. Are you home
sick? Nehemiah was homesick. Are
you broken-hearted? Nehemiah was
broken-hearted. But just see him in
the text, riding along the sacrileged
grave of his father, and by the dragon
well, and through the fish gate, and by
the kings pool, in and out, in and out
the moonlight falling on the broken
masonry, which throws long
shadow at which the horse shies,
and at the same time that moonlight
kindling up the features of the man
till you see not only the mark of sad
"reminiscences, but the courage and
hope, the enthusiasm of man who
knows that Jerusalem will be re-
builded. pick you up to-day, out OF