The Iola register., 1898-03-25


name is changed now. / hear it in the
shuttle of the worn-out shoes. / see it
in the figure of the faded calico. l
find it in the lineaments of the woe
begone countenance. Not Mary, nor
Bertha, nor Agnes, but Hagar in the
wilderness. May God have mercy on
woman in her tolls, her struggles, her
hardships, her desolation, and may the
great heart of divine sympathy inclose
her forever
Again, find in this Oriental scene
the fact that every mother leads forth
tremendous destinies. You say: THAT
isn't an unusual scene, a mother lead
ing her child by the hand" Who is
that she is leading? Ishmael, you say.
Who is Ishmael? A great nation is to
be founded-a nation so strong that it
is to stand for thousands of years
against all the armies of the world.
Egypt and Assyria thunder against it,
but in vain. Gaulus brings up his
army, and his army is smitten. Alex
ander decides upon a campaign, brings
up his hosts, and dies. For long
while that nation monopolizes the
learning of the world. 1t is the ma
tion of the Arabs. Who founded it?
Ishmael, the lad that Hagar led into
wilderness. She had no idea she was
leading forth such destinies. Neither
does any mother. You pass along the
street and see and pass boys and girls
who will yet make the earth quake
with their influence.
Who is that boy at Sutton Pool, p ly-
mouth, England, barefooted, wading
down into the slush and slime, until
his bare foot comes upon a piece of
glass and he lifts it, bleeding and
pain-struck? That wound in the foot
decides that he be sedentary in his
life, decides that he be student.
That wound by the glass in the foot
decides that he shall be John Kitto,
who shall provide the best religious
encyclopaedia the world has ever had
provided, and with his other writings
as well, throwing a light upon the
word of God such as has come from
no other man in this century.
. mother, mother, that little
hand that wanders over your face
may yet be lifted to hurl thunder
bolts of war or drop benedictons!
That little voice may blaspheme God
in the grog-shop or cry Forward to
the Lords hosts as they go out for
their last victory. My mind this morn
ing leaps 30 years ahead. and | see a
merchant prince of New York. One
stroke of his pen brings a ship out OF
Canton. Another stroke of his pen
brings a ship into Madras. He is
mighty in all the money markets of
the world Who is he? lie sits on
Sabbath besides you in church.
My mind leaps forward 30 years from
now, and find myself looking through
the wickets of prison. | see face
Scared with every crime. His chin
on his open palm, his elbow on his
knee-a picture of despair. AS | open
the wicket, he starts and ! hear his
chain clank. The jailkeeper tells me
that he has been in there now three
times-frst for theft, then for arson,
now for murder. He steps upon the
trap door, the rope is fastened to his
neck, the plank falls, his body swings
into the air, his souls swings off into
eternity. Who is he, and where is heg
| This afternoon playing kite on the
city commons. Mother, you are now
hoisting throne or forging a chain
you are kindling a star or digging Q
dungeon.
A Christian mother IA good many
years ago sat teaching lessons of re
ligion to her child, and he drank in
those lessons, She never knew tha'
Lamphier would come forth and es
tablish the Fulton street prayer meet
ing, and by one meeting revolutioniZ,
the devotions of the whole earth anC
thrill the eternities with his Christian
influence. Lamphier said it was hi
mother that brought him to Jesus
Christ. She never had an idea tina
she was leading forth such destinies.
learn one more lesson from thi
Oriental scene, and that is, that every
wilderness has u we'll in it. Haga
and Ishmael gave up to die. Hagar'
heart sank within her as she heard he
child crying, "Water! Water! Water!
"Ahw she says, my darling, there i
no water. This is n desert" An,
then Gods angel said from the cloud
What aileth thee, Hagar" And sh'
looked up and saw him pointing to 1
well of water, where she filed the bot
tie for the lad. Blessed be God, tina
is in every wilderness IA well,
you only know how to find it-foun
tains for all these thirsty souls. o.
that last day, on that great day of tn
feast, Jesus stood and cried: IF an
man thirst, let him come to me an
drink" All these and other fountain
you find are mere mirages of the desert
Yes, there is well for every deser
of bereavement Looking over my au
dience l notice signs of mourning an
woe. Have you found consolation? c
man bereft, o, woman bereft, have yo
. found consolation? Hearse afte
hearse. We step from one grave hilloc
to another grave hillock. We folloN
corpses, ourselves soon to be like then
The world is in mourning for it's dead
Every heart has become the sepulche
> of some buried JOY But sing ye I
God; every wilderness has a well in il