The Yale expositor., 1899-08-11
TALMAGE'S SERMON.
THE IVORY PALACES" LAST
SUNDAYS SUBJECT.
FAN the Garments Smell of Myrrh, and
Aloes, and Cassia, out of tho Ivory
Palaces"-From the Book of Psalms,
Chapter xl, Verse 8.

crate rose windows, and sculpturing of
the last judgment, with the trumpeting
angels and rising Dead its battlements
of quatre-foil; it's sacristy, with ribbed
ceiling and statues of saints. But there
was nothing in all that building which
more wildly appealed to my plain re-
publican tastes than the costly vest
ments which lay in oaken presses
robes that had been embroidered with
gold. and been worn by popes and arch
/ bishops on great occasions. There was
robe that had been worn by Plus
VII. at the browning of the first Ma
poleon. 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
vividly impressed me than these things
that had been in cloth, and embroidery
and perfume. But today / open the
drawer Of this text. and l look upon
the kingly robes of Christ and as lift
them, flashing with eternal jewels, the
whole house is filled with the aroma of
these garments, which smell or
myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out OF
the ivory palaces"
In my text the king steps forth. His
In 10 a6
His pomp and power and glory over
master the spectator. More brilliant
is he than Queen Vashti, moving amid
the Persian princes; than Marie An
toinette, on the day when Louis XVI.
put upon her the necklace of 500 dia-
monds; than Anne Boleyn, the day
when Henry VIII. welcomed her to his
palace-all beauty and all pomp for
gotten while we stand in the presence
Of this imperial glory, king of Zion,
king Of earth, king Of heaven, king
forever! His garments not worn out,
not dust-bedraggled; but radiant and
I jeweled and redolent. 1t seems as if
they must have been pressed hundred
years amid the flowers of heaven. The
wardrobes from which they have been
taken must have been sweet with clus-
tiers of campfire, and frankincense, and
all manner Of precious wood Do you
not inhale the doors? Ay, ay, 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 bright-leafed Abys-
sinian plant. 1t 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 sprig of myrrh thrown on
his infantile bed in Bethlehem, and the
last gift that Christ ever had was
myrrb pressed into the cup Of his cru
/ cifixion. Tnj natives would take a
stone and bruise he tree. and then
1t would exude a gum that would satu-
rate all the ground beneath. This gum
was used for purposes Of merchapdise.
One piece of 1t, no larger than chest
nut, would whelm a whole room with
odors. 1t was put in closets, in chests,
in drawers, in rooms and its perfume
adhered almost interminably to any
thing that was anywhere near it, So
when in my text | read that Christ's
garments smell of myrrh, immediate
ly conclude the exquisite sweetness Of
Jesus.
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 a statue;
but to those who have heard his voice,
and felt his pardon. and received his
benediction he is music and light, and
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; yes.
terday. today, forever. 1t seems as if
we cannot wear him out. We put on
him all our burdens, and afiiict him
with all our griefs, and set him fore
most 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 affroDi
he would quit our soul, and yet today
he addresses us with the same tender
ness, dawns upon us with the same
smile, pities us with the same com
, passion.
, There is no name like his for us. Il
, is more imperial than Caesars, more
, musical than Beethoven's, more con
quering than Charlemagne's, more elo
, quent than Cicero's. II throbs with al
life. It weeps with all pathos. /
groans with all pain. 1t stoops with al
condescension. II breathes with al
perfume Who like Jesus to set
broken bone, to pity a homeless or
pban, to nurse a sick man, to take
prodigal back without any scolding
to illumine a cemetery all ploughe'
2 with graves to make a queen unit