Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1897-08-23

der and invite you into the peace of the
gospel. Here is a rock on which you
may stand firm, though the waves dash
against it harder than the Atlantic,
pitching its surf clear above Eddystone
lighthouse. Do not charge upon God all
these troubles of the world. AS long as
the world stuck TO God God stuck TO the
world, but the earth seeded from his
government, and hence all these out
RACES and All these woes. God is good.
For many hundreds of years he has been
coa1ing the world to come back to him,
hut the more he has coaxed the more
violent have men been in their resist
ance, and they have stepped back and
stepped back until they have dropped
into ruin.
Try this God, ye who have had the
bloodhounds after you, and who have
thought that God had forgotten you. Try
him and see if he will not help. Try
him and see if he will not pardon. Try
him and see if he will not save. The
flowers Of spring have no bloom so
sweet as the Towering of Christ's affec-
lions. The sun hath no warmth COM
pared with the glow of his heart. The
waters have no refreshment like the
fountain that will Stake the thirst of
thy soul. At the moment the reindeer
stands with his lip and nostril thrust in
the cool mountain torrent, the hunter
may be coming through the thicket.
Without cracking stick under his
foot he comes close by the stag, aims
his gun, draws the trigger, and the poor
thing rears III its death agony and falls
backward, it's a1ftlers crashing on the
rocks. But the painting hart that drinks
from the water brooks of Gods promise
shall never be fatally wounded and shall
never die.
The Worlds Anathema.
This world is poor portion for your
soul, o business man! An eastern
king had craven on his tomb two fingers,
represented as sounding on each other
with a snap, and under them the motto,
"All is not worth that Apicius Co-
illus hanged himself because his stew
ard informed him that he had only
$50, 900 sterling left. All of this worlds
riches make but a small inheritance for
soul. Robespierre attempted to win
the applause of the world, but when he
was dying a woman came rushing
through the crowd, crying to him,
Murderer Of my kindred descend to
hell, covered with the curses of every
mother in FranceP' Many who have
expected the plaudits of the world have
died under its anathema maranatha.
Oh find your peace in God! Make
one strong pull for heaven. No half
way work will do it. There sometimes
comes time on shipboard when every
thing must be sacrificed to save the
passengers. The cargo is nothing, the
rigging nothing. The captain puts the
trumpet to his lip and shouts, "Cut
away the mastP' Some of you have
been tossed and driven, and you have,
in your effort to keep the world, well
nigh lost your soul. Until you have de-
cided this matter let everything else 60.
Overheard with all those other anxieties
and burdens. You will have to drop the
sails of your pride and cut away the
mast. With one earnest cry for help put
your cause into the hand of him who
helped Paul out of the breakers of Me-
lita, and who, above the shrill blast of
the wrathiest tempest that ever black
ened the sky or shook the ocean, can
hear the faintest imploration for mercy.
shall close this sermon feeling that
some Of you who have considered your
case as hopeless will take heart again,
and that with a blood red earnestness,
such as you have never experienced be-
fore. you will start for the good land
of the gospel-at last to look back, say
ing: 'What great risk 1 ran! Almost |
lost, but saved Just got through, and
no morel Escaped by the skin of my
teeth"