The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1898-03-16

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die Jesus takes us. That answers all
questions for me. What though there
were massive bars between here and
the city of light. Jesus could remove
them. What though there were
great Saharas of darkness, Jesus
could illume them. What though
get weary on the way, Christ
could lift me on His omnipotent
shoulder. What though there were
chasms to>cross, his hand could trans
port me. Then let Stephens prayer be
my dying litany: Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit" 1t may be in that hour we
will be too feeble to say a long prayer.
1t may be in that hour we will not be
able to say the Lords Prayer" for it
has seven petitions Perhaps we may
be too feeble even to say the infant
prayer our mothers taught u.s. which
John Quincy Adams, 70 years of age,
said every night when he put his head
upon his pillow:
Now lay me down to Sleep
pray the Lord my soul to keep.
We may be too feeble to employ
either of these familiar forms; but this
prayer of Stephens is so short, is so
concise, is so earnest, is so comprehcn-
sive, we surely will be able to say that:
Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" Oh, if
that prayer is answered, how sweet it
will be to die! This world is clever
enough to us. Perhaps it has treated
us great deal better than we deserve
to be treated; but if on the dying pill
low there should break the light of that
better world, we shall have no more
regret about leaving small, dark,
damp house for one large, beautiful
and capacious. That dying minister
in Philadelphia some years ago beau
tifully depicted it, when, in the last
moment, he threw up his hands and
cried out: 81 move into the lightp
Pass on now, and will show you one
more picture, and that is Stephen
asleep. With pathos and simplicity
peculiar to the Scriptures, the text
says of Stephen: HE fell asleep"
Oh" you say, what place that was
to sleep! A hard rock under him, stones
falling down upon him, the blood
streaming, the mob bowling. What a
place it was to sleepw And yet my
text takes that symbol of slumber to
describe his departure, so sweet was
it, so contented was it, so peaceful was
1t. Stephen had lived very laborious
life, his chief work had been to care
for the poor. How many loaves of
bread he distributed, how many bare
feet he had sandaled, how many
cots of sickness and distress he |
blessed with ministries. of kind |
ness and love, l do not know; but |
from the way he lived, and the wav
he preached, and the way he died, / |
know he was laborious Christian.
But that is all over now. He has
the cup to the last fainting lin.
he has taken the last insult from his
enemies. The last stone to whose
crushing weight he is susceptible has
been hurled. Stephen is dead. The
disciples come. They take him up.
They wash away the blood from the
wounds. They straighten out the
bruised limbs. They brush back the
tangled hair from the brow, and then
they pass around to look upon the calm
countenance of him who had lived for
the poor and died for the truth.
Stephen asleep!
have seen the sea driven with the
hurricane until the tangled foam
caught in the rigging, and wave rising
above wave seemed as if about to storm
the heavens, and then l have seen the
tempest drop, and the waves crouch.
and everything become smooth and
FURNISHED as though camping place
for the glories of Heaven. So / have
seen man, whose life has been tossed
and driven, coming down at last to an
infinite calm in which there was the
hush OF Heavens lullaby.
Stephen asleepl saw such an one.
tic fought all his days against poverty
IND against abuse. They traduced his
lame. They ratified at the door knob
While he was dying, with duns for
iebts he could not pay; yet the peace
II God brooded over his pillow, and
While the world faded, Heaven dawned,
md the deepening twilight of earth's
light was only the opening twilight of
1eaven's morn. Not a sigh. Not
ear. Not struggle. Hush! Stephen
sleep!
l have not the faculty to tell the
| can never tell by the setting
un whether there will be a drought or
lot. cannot tell by the blowing of the
Wind whether it will be fair weather or
oul on the morrow. But can propbe-
y and will prophesy what weather {
Will be when you, the Christian, come
die. You may have it very rough
ow. 1t may be this week one annoy-
nee, the next another ANNOYANCE. 1t
lay be this year one bereavement, the
ext another bereavement. Before this
ear has passed you may have to beg
Or bread, or ask for a scuttle of coal c
a pair of shoes; but at the last Christ
III come in and darkness will 90 out. 1
nd though there may be no hand to Q
lose your eyes, and no breast on which i
rest your dying head, and no candle L
lit the night, the odors of Gods c
angling garden will regale your soul, r
nd at your bedside will halt the
nariots of the King. No more rents c
pay, no more agony because flour i
as gone up, no more struggle with n
the world, the flesh, and the devil" b
ut peace-long, deep, everlasting n
eace. Stephen asleep! j
Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep.
From which none ever wake to weep =