The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1900-04-06
voice with which they shouted yester-

| with throats that onl V few days age
sounded in the hoarse blast of the sea
hurricane, they sang it. One theme
for the sermons. One burden for the
song. Jesus for the invocation
Jesus for the Scripture lesson. Jesus
for the baptismal font. Jesus for the
sacramental cup. Jesus for the bene
diction. But the day has gone. II
rolled away on swift wheels of light
and love. Again the churches are
lighted. Tides of people again setting
/ down the streets. Whole families
| coming up the church aisle. We must
| have one more service. What shall
we preach? What shall we read
Let it be Jesus, everybody says; let il
| be Jesus. We must have one more
song. What shall it be, children?
Aged men and women, what shall it
be? Young men and maidens, what
| shall it be? If you dared to break
the silence of this auditory, there
would come up thousands of quick
and jubilant voices, crying out, "Let
it be Jesusl Jesus! Jesus!"
We sing His birth-the barn that
sheltered Him, the mother that
nursed Him, the cattle that fed be-
side Him, the angels that woke up
the shepherds, shaking light over the
midnight hills. We sing His ministry
the tears He wiped away from the
eyes of the orphans, the lame men
that forgot their crutches, the dam
sci who from the bier bounded out
into the sunlight, her locks shaking
down over the flushed cheek, the
hungry thousands who broke the
bread as it blossomed into larger
loaves-that miracle by which a boy
with five Ioaves and two fishes be-
came the sutler of a whole army. We
sing His sOrrows-His stone-bruised
feet, His aching heart, His mountain
loneliness, His desert hunger, His
storm-pelted body, the eternity of
anguish that shot through His last
moments, and the immeaSurable ocean
of torment that heaved up against His
cross in one foaming, wrathful, om-
nipOtent surge, the sun dashed out,
and the dead, shroud wrapped, break
ing open their sepulchers and rushing
out to see what was the matter. We
sing His resurrection-the guard that
could not keep Him, the sorrow of
His disciples, the clouds piling up on
either side in pillared splendors as
He went through, treading the path
less air, higher and higher, until He
came to the foot of the throne, and all
heaven kept jubilee at the return of
the conquerOr. Oh, is there any song
f.
than this song of Jesus? Let the
passers-by in the street hear it, let
the angels of God carry it amidst the
thrones. Sound it out through the
darkness: Jesus, the night song,
appropriate for any hour. but espe-
cially sweet and beautiful and blessed
on Sabbath night.
a Christian woman. the wife of
minister of the Gospel, was dying in
the parsonage near the old church,
where on Saturday night the choir
used to assemble and rehearse for the
following Sabbath. and she said:
How strangely sweet the choir re-
hearses tonight. They have been re-
hearsing there for an hour" NO"
said some one about her. 1.-The choir
is not rehearsing tonight" "Yes,"
she said, II know they are. I hear
them singing. How very sweetly they
sing!" Now, it was no5 choir of
earth that she heard, but The choir
of Heaven. l think that Jesus some
times sets ajar the door of Heaven.
and a passage of that rapture greets
our ears. The minstrels of Heaven
strike such tremendous strain the
walls of jasper cannot hold it.
/ wonderland this is a question I
have been asking myself all the serv-
you sing that song? VIII I
sing it? Not unless our sins are par
doned and we learn now to sing the
praise of Christ will we ever sing it
there. The first great concert that
[ ever attended was in New York
when Julien in the Crystal palace
stood before hundreds of singers and
of players upon instru-
ments. Some of you may remember
that occasion. 1t was the first one of
the kind at which I was present, and |
shall never forget it. / saw that one |
man standing and with the hand and |
foot WELD that great harmony, beat
ing the time. 1t was to me over |
But, oh, the grander scene |
when they shall come from the east |
and from the west and from the |
north and from the south, "a great |
multitude that no man can number"
nto the temple of the skies, host be-
rond host, rank beyond rank, gallery |
lbove gallery, and Jesus will stand be-
ore that great host to conduct the
harmony with His wounded hands and
wounded feetl Like the voice of
many waters, like the voice of mighty
they shall cry: Worthy
S the Lamb that was slain to re-
,eive blessings and riches and honor
md glory and power, world without
nd. Amen and amen!" Oh, if my
ar shall hear no other sweet sounds,
nay l hear that! If L join no other
lad assemblage, may / join in that.
l was reading of the battle of Agin-
ourt, in which Henry V. figured, and
is said after the battle was won,
'loriously won, the king wanted to
the Divine interposition,
nd he ordered the chaplain to read
he Psalm of David and when he
anne to the words: Not unto us, O
ord, but to Thy name be the praise"
he king dismounted, and all the
avalry dismounted, and all the great
ost, officers and men, threw them
elves on their faces. Oh, at the
tory of the Saviour's love and the
deliverance, shall we
OF PROSTATE ourselves before Him
o-day, hosts of earth and hosts of
-eaven, falling upon our faces and
rying: "Not unto US, not unto US,
ut unto Thy name be the glory,"