Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1898-07-04

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ing forth from the palace gate are Vashti
and her children. There are homes in
all parts of this land that are in dan
ger of such breaking up Oh, Ahasuerus,
that you should stand in home, by a
dissipated life destroying the peace and
comfort Of that home. God forbid that
your children should ever have to wiring
their hands and have people point their
finger at them as they pass down the
street and say, "There goes drunkard's
childr' God forbid that the little feet
should ever have to trudge the path of
poverty and wretchedness. God forbid
that any evil spirit born of the wine
cup or the brandy glass should come
forth and uproot that garden, and with
a lasting blistering, all consuming
curse shut forever the palace gate
against Vashti and the children.
Firesides of Christendom.
One night during our civil war I
went to Hagerstown to look at the
army, and [ stood on a hilltop and
looked down upon them. [ saw the
campfires all through the valleys and
all over the hills. 1t was weird spec
tacle, those campfires, and [ stood and
watched them, and the soldiers who
were gathered around them were no
doubt talking of their homes, and of
the long march they had taken, and of
the battles they were to fight, but after
awhile I saw these campfres begin to
lower, and they continued to lower un
til they were all gone out and the army
slept. 1t was imposing when [ saw the
campfires It was imposing in the dark
ness when thought of that great host
asleep. Well, God looks down from
heaven, and he sees the fresides of
Christendom and the loved ones gather
ed around these firesides. These are the
campfires where we warm ourselves at
the close of day and talk over the bat
ties of life we have fought and the bat
ties that are yet to come. God grant
that when at last these fires begin to go
out and continue to lower until finally
they are extinguished and the ashes Of
consumed hopes strew the hearth of the
old homestead, it may be because we
have
Gone 20 sleep that last sleep
From which none ever wake to weep
Now we are an army on the march
of life. Then we shall be an army
bivouacked in the tent of the grave.
vashti the Silent.
Once more. I want you to look at
Vashti the silent. You do not hear any
outcry from this woman as she goes
forth from the palace gate. From the
very dignity of her nature you know
there will be no vociferation. Some
times in life it is necessary to make
retort, sometimes in life it is necessary
to resist, but there are crises when the
most triumphant thing to do is to keep
silence. The philosopher, confident in
his newly discovered principle, waiting
for the coming of more intelligent gen
erations, willing that men should laugh
at the lightning rod and cotton gin and
steamboat and telegraph, waiting for
long years through the scoffing of philo-
sophica] schools in grand and magnifi-
cent silence.
Calico, condemned by mathemati-
clans and monks and cardinals, carica-
tured everywhere, yet waiting and
Watching with his telescope to see the
coming up of stellar re-enforcements
when the stars in their courses would
fight for the Copernican system, then
sitting down in complete blindness and
the generations who would build his
monument and bow at his grave. The
reformer, execrated by his contempt
raries, fastened in a pillory, the slow
fires of pablo contempt burning under
him, ground under the cylinders of the
printing press, yet calmly waiting for
the day when purity of soul and hero
ism of character will get the sanction of
earth and the plaudits Of heaven. Attic
ton enduring without any complaint
the sharpness of the pang and the vio-
lence of the storm and the heft of the
chain and the darkness of the night,
waiting until divine hand shall be put
forth to soothe the pang and hush the
storm and release the captive. A wife
abused, prosecuted and q perpetual exile
from every earthly comfort waiting,
waiting until the Lord shall gather up
his dear children in a heavenly home,
and no poor Vashti will ever be thrust
out from the palace gate. Jesus, in ST.
lence and answering not word, drink
ing the gall, bearing the cross in pros
pect of the rapturous contamination
when
Angels thronged his chariot wheel
8 And bore him to his throne,
Then swept their golden harps and sang,
1.-THE glorious work is done!"
Oh, woman, does not this story of Vashti
the queen, Vashti the yelled, Vashti
the sacrifice, Vashti the silent, move
your soul? My sermon converges into
the one absorbing hope that none of you
may be shut out of the palace gate of
heaven. You can endure the hardships
and the privations and the cruelties and
the naisfortunes of this life if you can
only gain admission there. Through the
blood of the everlasting covenant you
90 through those gates or never 90