Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1900-12-03
March of Gods Hosts.

This last summer l stood on Sparrow
hill, four miles from Moscow. 1t was
the place where Napoleon stood and
looked upon the city which he was
about to capture His army had been
in long marches and awful fights and
fearful exhaustions, and when they
came to Sparrow hill the shout went
up from tens of thousands of voices,
"MOScOW. Moscow | do not wonder
at the transport. a ridge of hills sweeps
round the city. A river semicircles it
with brilliance. 1t is a spectacle that
you place in your memory as one of
three or four most beautiful scenes in
all the earth. NapOleOn'S army march
ed on it in four divisions, four over
whelming torrents of valOr and pOmp,
down Sparrow hill and through the
beautiful valley and across the bridges
and into the palaces, which surrender
ed without one shot of resistance be-
cause the avalanche of troops was ir-
resistible. There is the room in which
Napoleon slept, and his pillow, which
must have been very uneasy. for, oh,
how short his stay! Fires kindled in
all parts of the city simultaneously
drove out that army into the snow
storms under which $4,000 men per-
iShed. How soon did triumphaI march
turn into horrible demolition, Today
while | speak we come on Il high hill,
a glorious hill of Christian anticipation.
These hosts of God have had n long
march and fearful battles. and defeats
have again and again mingled with the
victories, but today we come in sight
of the great city, the capital of the
universe, the residence Of the King
and the home of those who are to reign
with him for ever and ever. Look at
the towers and hear them ring with
eternal jubilee. Look at the house of
many mansions where many of our
loved ones are. Behold the streets of
FURNISHED sold and hear the rumble of
the chariOtS of those who are more
than cOnquerOrs. SO far from being
driven back, all the II gates are wide
open for our entrance. We are march,
ing on and marching on, and our every
step brings us nearer to the city.
At what hour we shall enter we have
no power to foretell, but once enlisted
amid the blood washed host our en-
trance is certain. It may be in the
bright MONDAY or the dark midnight.
1t may be when the air is laden with
Springtime fragrance or chilled with
falling SHOWS. But enter we must and
enter we will through the grace offered
us as the chief of sinners. Higher hills
than any 1 have spoken of will guard
that city. More radiant waters than L
saw in the Russian valley will pour
that great metropolis No rag
ing conflagratiOn shall drive us forth, |
for the only fires kindled in that city
will be the fires of a splendor that shall |
ever hoist and never die. Reaching
that shining gate, there will be a part
ing, but no tears at the parting. There
will be an eternal farewell, but no sad |
ness in the utterance. Then and there |
we will part with one of the best |
friends we ever had. No place for her
in heaven, for she needs no heaven.
While love and JOY and other graceC
enter heaven, she will stay out. Pa
tience, beautiful Patience, long suffer
ing Patience, will at that gate say:
"Goodby. l helped you in the battle of
life, but now that you have gained the
triumph you need me no more. bound
up your wounds, but now they are all