Connecticut western news., 1898-04-21

The King of earth and heaven may have larger castles and greater palaces, but l do not think there is any one more euri
 ously wrought than the human ear
 The heaven of heavens cannot contain him, and yet he says he finds room to dwell in contrite heart, and think in a Christian ear.
 We have been looking for God in the infinite; let us look for him in the inf intestinal. God walking the corridor of the ear, God sitting in the gallery of the human ear, God speaking along the au- ditory nerve of the ear, God dwelling in the ear to hear that which comes from the outside, and so near the brain and the soul he can hear all that tran spires there. The Lord of hosts encamp- ing under the curtains of membrane. Palace of the Almighty in the human ear. The rider on the white horse of the Apocalypse thrusting his foot into the loop of bone which the physiologist has been pleased to call the stirrup of the ear.
 Are you ready now for the question of my text? Have you the endurance to bear its overwhelming suggestiveness? Will you take hold of some pillar and balance yourself under the semiomnipo- tent stroke? "He that planted the ear, shall he not hear?' Shall the God who gives us the apparatus with which we hear the sounds of the world himself not be able to catch up song and groan and blasphemy and worship? Does he give us q faculty which he has not him. ,o1f nd bee invented the acoumeter and other instruments by which to measure and examine the ear, and do these instru- ments know more than the doctors who made them? "He that planted the ear, shall he not hear?" Jupiter of Crede was always represented in statuary and painting as without ears, suggesting the idea that he did not want to be bother ed with the affairs of the world. But our God has ears. "His ears are open to their cry" The Bible intimates that two workmen on Saturday night do not get their wages. Their complaint in- stantly strikes the ear of God, "The cry of those that reaped hath entered the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth." Did God hear that poor girl last night as she threw herself on the prison bunk in the city dungeon and cried in the midnight, "God have mercy?" Do you really think God could hear her? Yes, just as easily as when 15 years ago she was sick with scarlet fever and her mother heard her when at midnight she asked for a drink of water. "He that planted the ear, shall he not hear?"
 How God Hears Prayers.
 When a soul prays, God does not sit bolt upright until the prayer travels i'm mensity and climbs to his ear. The Bi- ble says he bends clear over. In more than one place Isaiah said he bowed down his ear. In more than one place the psalmist said he inclined his ear, by which 1 come to believe that God puts his ear so closely down to your lips that he can hear your faintest whisper. It is not God away off up yonder. It is God away down here, close up, so close up that when you pray to him it is not more whisper than kiss. Ah, yes he hears the captive's sigh and the plash of the orphans tear and the dying sylla- bles of the shipwrecked sailor driven on the skerries and the infants "Now I lay me down to sleep" as distinctly as he hears the fortissimo of brazen bands in the Dusseldorf festival, as easily as he hears the salvo of artillery when the 13 squares of English troops open all their batteries at once at Waterloo. He that planted the ear can hear.
 Just as sometimes an entrancing strain of music will finger in your ears for days after you have heard it, and just as sharp cry of pain l once heard while passing through Bellevue hospi- tai clung to my ear for weeks, and just as a horrid blasphemy in the street sometimes haunts ones ears for days, so God not only hears, but holds the songs, the prayers, the groans, the wor- ship, the blasphemy. How we have all wondered at the phonograph, which holds not only the words you utter, but the very tones of your voice, so that 100 years from now, that instrument turned, the very words you now utter and the very tone of your voice will be reproduced. Amazing photograph! But more wonderful is Gods power to hold, to retain. Ah, what delightful enoour- agement for our prayers! What an aw- ful fright for our hard speeches! What assurance of warm hearted sympathy for all our griefs ''He that planted the ear, shall he not hear?"
 Better take that organ away from all sin. Better put it under the best sound. Better take it away from all gossip, from all islander, from all innuendo, from all bad influence of evil associa- tion. Better put it to school to church, to philharmonic. Better put that ear under the blessed touch of Christian hymnology. Better consecrate it for time and eternity to him who planted the ear. Rousseau, the infidel, fell asleep amid his skeptical manuscripts lying all around the room, and in his dream he entered heaven and heard the song of the worshipers, and 1t was so sweet he asked an angel what it meant. The angel said, "This is the paradise of God, and the song you hear is the an- them of the redeemed. " Under another roll of the celestial music Rousseau wakened and got up in the midnight, and as we'll as he could wrote down the strains of the music that he had heard in the wonderful tune called "The Songs of the Redeemed" God grant that it may not be to you and to me an intidel dream, but a glorious reality. When we come to the night of death and we lie down to our last sleep, may our ears really be wakened by the can ticles of the heavenly temple and the songs and the anthems and the carols and the doxologies that shall climb the musical ladder of that heavenly gamut. Witness the Table.
 A man named Hogan was charged