The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1899-11-06

that reception room Of the Old homestead
have been wituesssdl yThere>.hst Joseph
and Jacob, RndiAg II d brighter room
than anything they saw In Pharsoh's pal
ace; David and the little child for whom
be once tasted aud wept; Mary and Las.
arus after the heartbreak of Bethany;
Timothy and grandmother Lois; Isabella
Graham and her sailor son; Alfred and
George Goodman, the mystery of the sea
at last made manifest: Luther and Mag
dalene the daughter he bemoaned; John
Howard and the prisoners whom, he COS
pelised, and multitudes without number
who, once no weary and 80 sad, parted on
earth. but gloriously met In heaven.
Among all the rooms of that house there
Is no one that more enraptures my soul
than that reception room. In my Ia
TIERS house are many rooms"
The Thrones OF Heaven.
Another room in our Fathers house Ia
the throneroom. We belong to the royal
family. The blood Of King Jesus flows
in our veins, so we have right to enter
the throneroom. 1t is no easy thing on
earth to get through even the outside
door Of kings residence. During the
Franco-German war, one eventide In the
summer Of 1870, stood studying the ex-
Quisite sculpturing of the gate of the TUT
leries Paris. Lost In admiration of the
wonderful art Of that gate, ! knew not
that I was exciting suspicion. Lowering
my eyes to the crowds of people, found
myself being closely inspected by the gov
ernmentnl officials, who. from my COM
piexion, judged me to be a German and
hot Far hall I ,t~h
be examining the gates Of the palace,
My explanation in very poor French did
not satisfy them, aud they followed me
long distances until reached my hotel
and were not satisfied until from my
landlord they found that was only an
inoffensive American. The gates of earth
ly palaces are carefully guarded, and, IL
80, how much more the throneroom! A
dazzling palace Is it for mirrors and all
costly art No one who ever saw the
throneroom Of the first and only Napole-
on will ever forget the letter N embroid-
cred in purple and gold on the upholstery
Of chair and window, the letter N glded
on the wall. the letter N chased on the
chalices, the letter N flaming from the
ceiling. What connagration of bril-.
lance the throneroOm of Charles I'm
manuel Of Sardinia, Of Ferdinand of
Spain, of Elizabeth Of England, of Boni-
face of ltaly!. But the throneroom Of
our Fathers house hath glory eclipsing
oil the thronerooms that ever saw scepter
wave or crown glitter or foreign embas-
sador bow, for our Fathers throne Is a
throne Of grace, throne Of mercy,
throne Of holiness. u throne of justice, a
~ al H.,
not stand shivcring and covering before
1t, for our Father says We may yet one
day come up and sit on it beside him.
"To him that overcometh will grant to
sit with me in my throne" You see we
are princes and Processes. Perhaps now
We move about incognito, as Peter the
Great in the garb OF ship carpenter at
Amsterdam or as Queen Tirzah in the
dress of peasant woman seeking the
prophet for her child's cure: but it will
be found out after awhile who we are
when we get into the throneroom. Aye,
we need not wait until then. We may
by prayer and song and spiritual uplift-
ing this moment enter the thronarooin.
o King, live forever! We touch the
scepter ard PROSTATE ourselves at thy
feet.
The crowns of the royal family of this
world are tossed about from generation
to generation, and from family to family
There are men comparatively young in
Berlin who have seen the crown on three
emperors. But wherever the coronets O.,
this world rise or fall they are destined
to meet in one place And look and see
them coming from north and south and
Nd h., n.,l,
Italian crown, the English crown, the
Turkish crown, the Russian crown, the
Persian crown-aye. all the crowns from
under the great archivolt of heaven--and
while watch and wonder they are all
flung in rain of diamonds around the
pierced feet.
Jesus shall reign where'er the sun
Does his successive journeys run,
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore
TIL sun shall rise and set no more.
Oh. that throneroom of Christ! "In my
Fathers house are many rooms"
The Music Room.
Another room in our Fathers house ia
the music room. St. John and other Bible
writer's talk so much about the music Of
heaven that there must be music there,
perhaps not such as on earth was thrum-
med from trembling string or evoked by
touch of ivory key, hut if not that. then
something better There are so many
Christian harpists and Christian compos-
ers and Christian 0rgansts and Christian
choristers and Christian hymno!ogists
that have gone up from earth, there must
be for them some place of especial delcc-
tation. Shall we have music in this world
80 IL, ,,I To-, "A
complete harmony? l cannot give you
the notes Of the first bar of the new song
that is sung in heaven. | cannot imagine
either the solo or the doxology. But heav-
on means music, and can mean nothing
else. Occasionally that music has escap-
Ell the gate. Or. Fuller, dying at Beau
fort, s. c., said do you not hear"
'Hcar what?' exclaimed the bystandcrs.
"The music! Lift me up. Open the win
dows"
In that music room of our Fathers
house you will some day meet the old
masters. Mozart and Handel and Men
delssOhn and Beethoven and Doddridge,
whose sacred poetry was as remarkable
as his sacred prose, and James Mont
gomery, and William Cowper, at last got
rid of his spiritual melancholy, and Bsh-
op Heber who sang of "Greenland's icy
mountains and midas coral strand" and
Dr.. RaiHes, who wrote Of High in yon-
der realms of light" and Isaac Watts,
who went to visit Sir Thomas Abney and
wife for week, but proved himself so
agreeable guest that they made him
stay 36 years, and side by side Augustus
Toplady, who has got over his dislike for
Methodists, and Charles Wesley, freed
from his dislike for Calvinists, md
George w. Bcthune MS sweet as u song
maker as he was great as preacher and
the author of "The Village Hymns" and
many who wrote in verse or song, in
church or by eventide cradle. and many
who were passionately fond of music, but
could make none themselves, the poorest
singer there more than any earthly prima
donna and the poorest players there more
than any earthly Gottschalk Oh, that
music room, the headquarters OF cadence
and rhythm, symphony and chant, psalm
and antiphon! May we be there some
hour when Haydn sits at the keys Of one
Of his own oratorios, and David the
psa lnlst fingers the harm md Miriam of