The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1897-03-10

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Africa or in America, Sc when God
made The mountains ne weighed
them. Tne Bible distinctly says
50. G5d kno IS the weight oftne great
ranges that ccoss the continents, the
tons. the pounds avo;rdu pcis, the
cunccS, TIE grains, the mlillgrAnls-
just how mUca they weighed thea,
ard ju:t how much they welghe now.
He weighed the mountains in scales
and the hills in 2 balance" Oa, what
g God TO run agains: On. what
God to disobey! On, what God TO
dishonor,, Oa. what Coo to defy:
The brightest, the mightiest angel
takes no familiarity with God. Tne
wings Of reverence are lifted. with
twain he covered the face.
Another seraphic posture in the
text. The sersph must not always
stand still. He must move, and 1t
must be without clumsiness. There
mus. be celerity and beauty n the
movement. With twain he did hg.
Correction, exbilaratioa. Correction
at our slow gait, for we oaly crawl IN
the service when we ought 10 hy al
the divine bidding. Exhilaration in
tae fact that the soul has wings, as
the seraphs have wings. What IS
wing: An Instrumentof locomotion.
Ihay NAV not bs like seraphs wing,
they may not oe like birds wing, out
the soul has wings. God says so. he
shall mount up on wings as eagles.
We are made IN the divine image, and
God has wings. The Bible says so.
Healing in his wings" ~ nder the
shado9 OF his wings" Under whose
wings hast thou come to trust. The
soul, with folded wing now, wounded
wing, broken wing, bleeding wing,
Gagged wing. Aye, l have 1t now.
Gagged within bars OF bone and under
curtains OF Il ,sh, but one day to be
free. I hear the rustic OF pinlons IL
Saagrave's poem, which we sometimes
sing:
Rise ny soul, and stretch thy wings.
hear the rustic Of pinions in Alex
ander Pope's s!anza, where ne says:
mount, fly,
0 death, where is thy victory?
\ dying Christian not long ago
cried out, Wings, wings, wings"
The air is full OF them, coming and
going, coming and going. You have
seen how the dull, sluggish chrysalis
becomes the bright butterhy-the dull
and the stupid and the lethargic turn
ed into the alert and the beautiful.
Well, my friends, in this world we
are in the chrysalid state. Death will
unfurl the wings Oh, if we could
only realize what grand thing it will
be to get rid Of this old clod OF the
body and mount the heavens Neither
sea gull nor lark nor albatros nor fall
con nor condor, pitching from high
es! range of Andes. SO bouyant or so
majestic OF stroke.
See that eagle in the mountain nest?
It looks so sick, SO ragged feathered,
so wornout and so half asleep. Is that
eagle dying: No. The ornithologist
will tell you it is the molting season
with that bird. Not dying, but molt:
ing. You see that Christian sick and
weary and worn out and seeming
about to expire on what is called his
deathbed2 The world says he is dy-
ing. say it is the molting season for
his soul-:he body dropping away, the
celestial pinions coming on. Not dy.
ing, but molting. Molting out OF
darkness and sin and struggle into
glory and into God. Why do you not
shoutl Why do you sit shiveriug at
the thought of death and trying to
mold back and wishing you could
stay here forever and speak OF depart
ure as though the subject were filled
with the skeletons and the varnlsh OF
cofins and as though you preferred
| lame foot TO swift wing?
| Oh, people of God, let US STOP play
| ing the fool and prepare for rapturous
| flight. When your soul stands on the
verge of this life and there are vast
precipices beneath and sapphired
| domes above, which way will you fly
| Will you swoop, or will you soar
| Will you fly downward, or will you fly
upward2 Everything on the wing this
day bidding US aspire. Holy Spirit
on the wing. Angel Of the New Cove.
nant on the wing. Time on the wing,
flying away from US. Eternity on the
wing, flying toward US. Wings,
wings, wings!
| Live so near to Christ that when
you are dead people standing BY your
| lifeless body will not soliIoouize, say
ing: What a disappointment life
was to him; how averse he was to de-
parture; what a pity it was be had to
die; what an awful calamity" Rath-
er, standing there, may they see a
sign more vivid on your still face
than the vestiges of pain, something
that will indicate that it was q happy
exit-the clearance from oppressive
quarantine, the cast off chrysalid, the
molting of the faded and the useless
and the ascent from malarial valleys
to bright, shining mountain tops, and
/ be led to say, as they stand there cor
templating your humility and your
reverence in life and your happiness
in death, with twain he covered the
feet, with twain he covered the lace,
with twain he did fly" Wings, wings,
wings.