The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1897-11-24

homes Christian principle. Can it be that
in any Of the comfortable homes OF my con-
gregation the voice Of prayer is never lifted?
What! No application at night for protec-
tion2 What No thanksgiving In the morn
ing for care? How, my brother, my sister,
will YOU answer God in the Day Of Judg.
ment, with reference to your children? 1t
| Is a plain question, and therefore ask 1t.
| In the tenth chapter Of jeremiah God says
He will pour out His fury upon. the families
that call not upon His name. parents,
when you are dead and gone, and the moss
is covering the inscription Of the tom bstone,
will your children look back and think OF
father and mother at family prayer? Will
they take the old family Bible and open 1t
tears Of consoltng promise wept oy eyes
long before gone out into darkness?
oh, IL you do not inculcate Christian prin-
ciple in the hearts of your children, and
you do not warn them against evil, and you
do not invite them to holiness and to God,
and they wander off into dissipation and
into infidelity, and at last make shipwreck
OF their immortal soul. on their death-bed
and in their Day of Judgment they will
curse you. Seated by the register or the
stove, what II on the wall should come out
the history of your children2 What his
tory-the mortal and immortal life OF your
loved ones. Every parent is writing the
history OF his child. He is writing 1t, COM
posing 1t into q song or turning 1t into
groan.
NV mind runs back to one Of the best OF
early homes. Prayer, like roof, over IL.
Peace, like an atmosphere, In 1t. Parents,
personifications Of faith in trial and COM
fort in darkness. The two pillars OF that
earthly home long ago crumbled to dust.
But shall ever forget that early home? Yes,
when the flower forgets the sun
that warns it. Yes, when the mariner for
gets the star that guided him. Yes, when
love has gone out Of the hearts altar
and memory has emptied his urn into forget
fulness. Then, the home OF my childhood,
will forget thee! the family altar OF O
fathers importantly and mothers tender.
ness, the voices ofaffection, the funerals OF
| our dead father and mother, with inter.
| locked arms like INTERVENING branches OF
trees making a perpetual arbor OF love,
and peace, and Kindness then will for
get them-then and only then. You know,
my brother, that hundred times you have
been kept out OF sin by the memory
of such scene as have been describing.
You have often had raging temptations,
but you know what has held you with su-
pernatural grasp. I tell you, man who
has had such good home as that never
gets over it, and man who has had bad
early home never gets over it.
Again, remark, that home Is type OF
heaven. To bring US to that home Christ
left His home. Far up and far back IN the
history OF heaven there came period
when It's most illustrious citizen was about
to absent Himself. He was not going to
sail from beach to beach; we have often
done that. He was not going to put out
from one hemisphere to another hemis-
phere; many OF US have done that: But
He was to sail from world to world, the
spaces unexplored and the immensities un-
travelled. No world had ever hailed heaven,
| and 80 far as we know heaven had never
hailed any other world. I think that the
windows and the balconies were thronged,
aud that the pearly beach was crowded
with those who had come to see Him sail
out the harbor Of light into the ocean be-
yond.
Out, and out, and out, and on, and on, and
on, and down, and down, and down He
sped, until one night, with only one to
greet Him, he arrived. His disembarka-
tion, 80 unpretending, 80 quiet, that 1t was
not known on earth until the excitement In
the cloud gave intimation that something
grand and glorious had happened! Who
comes there2 From what port did He sail2
Why was this the place Of his destination2
question the shepherds, I question the
L
have found outl He was an exile. But the
world has had plenty Of exiIes-Abraham
an exile from Ur Of the Chaldees; John an
exile from Ephesus; Kosciusko an exile
from Poland; Mazzini an exile from Rome;
Emmett On exile from Ireland; Victor
Hugo an exile from France; Kossuth an
exile from Hungary. But this one OF whom
I speak to-day had such resounding fare
we'll and came into such chilling reception
for not even hostler went out with his
lantern to help Him in-thar He is: more to
be celebrated than any other expatriated
one Of earth or heaven.
At our best estate we are only pilgrims
and strangers here. "Heaven Is our home"
Death will never knock at the door OF that
mansion, and in all that country there ID
not single grave. How glad parents are
in holiday times to gather their children
home again. But have noticed that there
Is almost always a SON or daughter alb
sent-absent from home, perhaps absent
from the country, perhaps absent from the
world. Oh, how glad our Heavenly Father
will be when He gets all His children home
with Him In heaven And how delightful
it will be for brothers and sisters to meet
after long separations! Once they parted
at the door of the tomb; now they meet at
the door Of Immortality.
Gates of pearl, capstones Of amethyst,
thrones Of dominion, do not stir my soul 80
much as the thought Of home. Once there
let earthly sorrows howl like storms and
roll Hike seas. Home. Let thrones rot and
empires wither. Home: Let the world die
In earthquake struggle, and be buried
amid procession Of planets and dirge OF
spheres. Home. Let everlasting ages roll
Irresistible sweep. Home. No sorrow, no
crying, no tears, no death. But home,
sweet home, home, beautiful home, ever
lasting home, home with each other, home
with God.
One night lying ON my lounge, when very
tired, my children all around about me in
full romp, and hilsIfty, and laughter-on
the lounge. half awake and half asleep, I
dreamed this dreanis. was In q far coun-
try. It was not Persia, although more than
Oriental luxuriance crowned the cities, 1t
was not the tropics, although m ore than
tropical fruitfulness filled the gardens. 1t
was not Italy, although more than italian
softness filled the air. And I wandered
around looking for thorns and nettles, but
found that none OF them grew there, and
saw the sun rise, and I watched to see it
set, but 1t sank not. And saw the people
in holiday attire, and I said: "When will
they put of this and put on workmen's
garb, and again delve In the mine or swell
ter at the forge?" But they never put of
the holiday attire.
And wandered in the suburbs of the
city to find the place where the dead sleep,
and looked all along the line Of the beau
tiful hills, the place where the dead might
most bllssfully sleep, and saw towers and
castles, but not mausoleum or monu-
ment or white slab could I see. And
went to the chapel OF the great town, and
I said: "Where do the poor worship, and
where are the hard benches on which they
sit?" And the answer was made me: "We
have no poor in this country" And then
I wandered out to find the novels Of the
destitute, and found mansions OF amber
and ivory and gold; but not te ,r could l