Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1898-07-28

Sheridan, in the midday OF prosperity.
harangued the people OF Britain; and how
outside Of the room where his corpse lay
his creditors tried to get his miserable bones
and sell. them.
This world for rest? "Ahal" cry the
waters, mo rest here-we plunge to the
sea-" "Ahaw cry the mountains, mo rest
here--we crumble to the plain" "Ahal'
cry the towers, ''no rest here-we follow
Babylon, and Thebes, and Nineveh into the
dust" No rest for the flowers; they fade.
No rest for the stars; they die. No rest for
man; he must work. toll. suffer. and slave.
Now, for what have said all thisp just
depart; for this is not your rest" I am
going to make you grand offer. Some OF
you remember that when gold was disccy.
cred In California, large companies were
made up and started of to get their for
tune, and year ago for the same purpose
day want to make up party for the land
OF God. hold in my hand a dead from the
Proprietor of the estate, in which He offers
to all who will join the company ten thou
sand shares Of infinite value, In city
whose streets are gold, whose harps are
read of the Crusaders-how that many
thousands of them went to conquer the
Holy Sepulchre. ask you to join a grand
er crusade-not for the purpose of conquer
ing the sepulchre OF q dead Christ but for
the purpose Of reaching the throne Of
living Jesus. When an army Is to be made
up, the recruiting officer examines the vol
unteers; he tests their eyesight; he sounds
their lungs; he measures their stature; they
must be just right, or they are rejected.
But there shall be no partiality in making
up this army Of Christ. Whatever your
moral or physical stature, whatever your
designations, whatever your crimes, what
ever your weaknesses, have q commits
sion from the Lord Almighty to make up
this regiment of redeemed souls, and I
cry, "Arise ye, and depart; for this
is not your rest" Many OF you have
lately joined this company, and my desire
is .hat you all may join it. Why not? You
what have said about this world is true
that 1t is no place to rest in. There are
hundreds here weary-oh, how weary
weary with sin; weary with trouble; weary
with bereavement. Some of you have been
pierced through and through. You carry
you have bled at every pore; and you sigh,
"Oh, that had the wings OF dove, that
might fly away and be at restl" You have
taken the cup Of this worlds pleasures and
drunk 1t to the dreRs, and still the thirst
claws at your tongue, and the fever strikes
to your brain. You have chased Pleasure
through every valley, by every stream,
amid every brightness, and under every
shadow; but just at tue moment when you
were all rendy to put your hand upon the
rosy, laughing sylph OF the wood, she
turned upon you with the glare OF flend
and her breath the chill damp of grave.
Out of Jesus Christ no rest. No voice to
silence the storm. No light to kindle the
darkness. No dry dock to repair the split
bulwark.
Thank God, can tell you something
haNt t.
is rest in Heaven. Oh, ye who are worn
out with work, your hancs calloused, your
backs bent, your eyes half put out, your
fingers worn with the needle, that in this
world YOU may never lay down: ye dis
couraged ones, who have been waging
hand-to- hand fight for bread; ye to whom
the night brings little rest and the morning
more drudgery-oh, ye OF the weary hand,
and the weary side, and the weary foot,
hears me talk about rest!
Look at that company OF enthroned ones.
1t cannot be that those bright ones ever
toiied? Yes! yes! These packed the Chi
nese tea-boxes, and through missionary in
struction escaped into glory. These swelt-
cred or Southern plantations. and one
night, after the cotton picking, went up as
white as II they had never been black.
Those died OF overtoil in the Lowell carpet
factories, and these In Manchester mills;
those helped build the Pyramids. and these
was bounded out of Jerusalem. No more
towers to build; Heaven is done. No more
garments to weave; the robes are finished.
No more harvest to raise; the garners are
full. Oh, sons and daughters of toll! arise
ye and depart for that is your rest.
Scoville McCallum, a boy OF my Sunday
school, while dying, said to his mother,
Don't cry, but sing, sing:
"'There is rest for the weary.
There is rest for the weary
Then putting his wasted hand over his
heart, he said, "There is rest for me-"
But there are some of you who want to
hear about the land where they never have
any heart-breaks and no graves are dug.
Where are your father and mother? The
most OF you are orphans. I look around,
and where see one man who has parents
living see ten who are orphans. Where
are your children? Where l see one family
circle that is unbroken, see three or four
that have been desolated. One lamb gone
out Of this fold; one flower plucked from
that garland; one golden link broken.from
that chain; here bright light put out,
With such griefs how are you to rest? Will
there ever be power that can attune that
silent voice or kindle the lustre of that
closed eye, or put spring and dance into
that little foot? When we bank up the dust
over the dead, Ia the sod neverto be broken?
tire OF the hearse wheel, or the tap OF the
hell at the gate as the long professions
come in with their awful burdens of
grief? Is the bottom of the grave gravel and
the top dustp No! no! no! The tomb is only
a place where we wrap our robes about US
for pleasant nap on our way home. The
swe,lings OF Jordan will only wash of the
dust OF the way. From the top OF the grave
we catch glimpse Of the towers glinted
with the sun that never sets.
Into that rest how many loved ones have
gonei Some put down the work OF mid
life, feeling they could hardly be spared
from the store or shop for day, but are
to be spared from 1t forever. Some went
In old age. One came tottering on his staff,
and used to sit at the foot of the pulpit,
his wrinkled face radiant with the light
that falls from the throne of God. Another
having lived q life of Christian consistency
here, ever busy with kindnesses for her
her heart full Of that meek and
quiet spirit that is in the sight of God OF |
great price, suddenly her countenance was
and the gate was opened, and
she took her place amid that great cloud
Of witnesses that hover about the throne!
Glorious consolation! They are not |
dead. You cannot make me believe they