Connecticut western news., 1899-08-03

fyeness of Christ In Glowing Col
 ors-From Ivory Palaces to Cruci-
 nxion Agony.
 ICopyright, Louis Klopsch, 1s99.l
 WAsHINeroN, July 30.-In this dis course Dr. Talmage sets forth the glo- ries of the world to come and the at tractiveness of the Christ, who opens the way; text, Psalms, xiv, s, All thy garments smell of myrrh and aloes and cass.a out of the ivory palaces"
 Among the grand adornments of the city of Paris Is the Church of Notre Dame, with great towers and. elabo- rate rose windows and sculpturing of the last judgment, with the trumpeting angels and rising dead; its battlements of quatre foil; its sacristy, with ribbed ceilings and statues of saints. But there was nothing in all that building which more vividly appealed to my plain republican tastes than the costly .yestments which lay in oaken presses robes that had been embroidered with gold and been worn by popes and archbishops on great occasions. There was a robe that had been worn by Plus VII at the crowning of the first Napoleon. There was also a vestment that had been worn at the baptism of Napoleon II. As our guide opened the oaken presses and brought out these vestments of fabulous cost and lifted them up the fragrance of the pungent Aromatics in which they had been pre- served filled the place with sweet ness that was almost oppressive. Moth ing that had been done in stone more yividly impressed me than these things that had been done in cloth and em- broidery and perfume. But today l open the drawer of this text, and look upon the kingly robes of Christ, and as l lift them, flashing with eternal jew els, the whole house Is filled with the aroma, of these garments, which "smen of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of the ivory palaces"
 The Robes of Christ.
 In my text the King steps forth. His robes rustic and blaze as he ad- vances. His pomp, and power and glory overmaster the spectator. More brilliant is he than Queen Vashti mov- ing amid the Persian princes; than Marie Antoinette on the day when Louis XVI put upon her the necklace of 8OO diamonds; than Anne Boleyn the day when Henry VIII welcomed her to his palace-all beauty and all pomp forgotten while we stand in the presence of this imperial glory, King of Zion, King of earth, King of heaven, King forever! Her garments not worn out, not dust bedraggled, but radiant and jeweled and redolent. It seems as if they must have been pressed 100 years amid the flowers of heaven. The wardrobes from which they have been taken must have been sweet with clusters of camphor and franklin cense and all manner of precious wood. Do you not inhale the odors? Aye, aye. @They smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of the ivory palaces"
 Your first curiosity Is to know why the robes of Christ are odorous with myrrh. This was a bright leafed .Abyssinian plant. It was trifoliated. The Greeks, Egyptians, Romans and Jews bought and sold it at high price. The first present that was ever given to Christ was a sprig of myrrh thrown On his infantile bed in Bethlehem, and the last gift that Christ ever had was myrrh pressed into the cup of his crucifxion. The natives would take a stone and bruise the tree, and then 1t would exude gum that would saturate all the ground beneath. This gum was used for the purposes of merchandise. One piece of 1t no larger than chest nut would whelm a whole room with odors. It was put in closets, in chests, in drawers, fin rooms, and it's perfume adhered almost interminably to any thing that was anywhere near 1t. So when in my text read that Christ's garments smell of myrrh I immedi- ately conclude the exquisite sweetness of Jesus.
 Spice Gales From Heaven.
 I know that to many he is only like any historical person; another John Howard; another philanthropic Ober- lin; another Confucius; a grand sub- ject for painting; a heroic theme for a poem; beautiful form for statue; but to those who have heard his voice and felt his pardon and received his
 
 warmth, and thrill, and eternal fra grance-sweet as a friend sticking to you when all else betray; lifting you up while others try to push you down; not so much like morning glories, that bloom only when the sun Is coming up, nor like -four o'clocks," that bloom only when the sun is going down, but like myrrh, perpetually aromatic-the same morning, noon and night, yester- day, today, forever. It seems as if we cannot wear him out. We put on him all our burdens and aff1ict him with all our griefs and set him foremost in all our battles; and yet he is ready to lift and to sympathize and to help. We have so imposed upon him that one would think In eternal affront he would quit our soul; and yet today he addresses us with the same tenderness, dawns upon us with the same smile. pities us with the same compassion.
 There Is no name like his for us. 1t is more imperial than Caesars, more musical than Beethoven's, more con- quering than Charlemagne's, more elor quent than Cicero's. It throbs with all life. It weeps with all pathos. It groans with all pain. It stoops with all condescension. It breathes with all perfume. Who like Jesus to set broken bone, to- pity a homeless or phan, to nurse sick man, to take a prodigal back without any scolding, to illumine a cemetery all plowed with graves, to make & queen unto God out of the lost woman, to catch the tears of human sorrow in a lachrymatory that shall never be broken7 Who has such an eye to see our need, such lip to kiss away our sorrow, such hand to snatch us out of the fire, such a foot to trample our enemies, such a heart to embrace all our necessities? l struggle for some metaphor with which to express him. He is not like the bursting forth of full orchestra.