The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1897-03-13

him for his ingenuity, but forbade the
enterprise because of its costliness.
| Yet l have to tell you that our King
holds in one hand all the cities of the
Garth, and all the oceans, while He has
the stars of heaven for His tiara.
AS you take pinch of salt or powder
between your thumb and two fingers,
so Isaiah indicates God takes up the
earth. He measures the dust of the
earth, the original there indicating
that God takes all the dust of all the
continents between the thumb and two
fingers. You wrap around your hand
a blue ribbon five times, ten times. You
say it is five-breadths, or it is ten hand
breadths So indicates the prophet God
winds the blue ribbon of the sky around
His hand. "He meteth out the heav-
ems with a span.' You know that
balances are made of beam
suspended in the middle, with
two basins at the extremity of
equal heft In that way what vast heft
has been weighed. But what are all
the balances of earthly manipulation
compared with the balances that Isaiah
saw suspended when he saw God put
ting into the scales the Alps and the
Apprentices and Mount Washington and
the Sierra Nevadas. You see the earth
had to be ballasted. 1t would not do
to have too much weight in Europe, or
too much weight in Asia, or too much
weight in Africa, or in Amer
lea; so when God made the
mountains He weighed them. The
Bible distinctly says so. God knows
the weight of the great ranges that
cross the continents, the tons, the
pounds avoirdupois, the ounces, the
grains, the millegrammes--just how
much they weighed then, and just how
much they weigh now. ''He weighed
the mountains in scales and the hills
in balance" Oh, what q God to run
against; oh, what a God to disobey;
oh, what a God to dishonor; oh, what a
God to defy! The brightest, the might
lest angel takes no familiarity with
God. The wings of reverence are
lifted. with twain he covered the
face"
Another seraphic posture in the text.
The seraph must always stand still.
He must move, and it must be without
clumsiness. There must be CELEBRITY and
beauty in the movement. with twain
he did fly Correction, exhilaration.
Correction at our slow gait, for we only
crawl in the service when we ought to
fly at the Divine bidding. Exhilaration
in the fact that the soul has wings
as the seraphs have wings. What
is wing? An instrument of
locomotion. They may not be like
seraph's wing, they may not be
like birds wing, but the soul
has wings God says so: ''lIe shall
mount up on wings as eagles" We ara
made in the Divine image, and God has
wings. The Bible says so: ''Healing
His wings" Under VIII ose wings hast
thou come to trust" The soul with
folded wing now, wounded wing. Aye!
l have it now. Gagged within bars Of
bone and under curtains of flesh, but
one day to be free. l hear the rustic
of pinions in Seagrave's poem which we
sometimes sing:
Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings.
/ hear the rustic of pinions in Alex
opS StdHZd, WilcTe TIC
mount, 1 fly.
o Death. where Is thy victory?
A dying Christian not long ago cried
ont: wings, wings, wingsr The air
is full of them, coming and going, COM
ing and going. You have seen how
the dull, sluggish chrysalid becomes
the bright butterfly; the dull and
the stupid and the lethargic turned
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 seagull
nor lark nor albatross nor falcon, nor
condor pitching from highest range of
Andes SO buoyant or SO majestic of
stroke.
See that eagle in the mountain nest.
1t looks so sick, SO ragged featheyed,
so worn out and so half asleep. Is that
eagle dying? No. The Sornithologist
will tell you it is the moulting season
with that bird. Not dying, but moult-
ing. You see that Christian sick and
weary and worn out and seeming about
to expire on what is called his death
bed. The world says he is dying. l
say it is the moulting season for his
soul-the body dropping away, the
celestial pinions coming on. Not dy-
ing, but moulting. Moulting out
of darkness and sin and struggle
into glory and into God. Why do you
not shout? Why do you sit shivering
at the thought of death and trying to
hold back apd wishing you could stay
here forever, and speak of departure as
though the subject were filed with
skeletons and the varnish of coffins,
and as though you preferred lame foot
to swift wingp
Live 80 near to Christ that when you
are dead people standing by your life
less body will not soliloquize, saying:
what disappointment life was to
him; how averse he was to departures;
what pity 1t was he had to die; what
an awful calamity" Rather standing
there may they see a sign more
vivid on your still face than the
vestiges of pain, something that will