St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1900-10-06

6, 1900.
THE KINGS GARDEN.
Dr. Talmage Diseourses on Christ
and the Church.
rte Most Beautiful Flowers aad the
nest Of Fruit-vHAy the Saw
aeuP Picks the Choic.
est First.
copyright, 1900. by Louis Klopsch.1
Washington,
This sermon DR.. Talmage sends
from a halting place in his journey
through the valleys of Switzerland.
1t seems to have been prepared amid
the bloom and aroma of garden
midsummer. The text is Song OF
Solomon 5:1: Il am come into my
garden"
The Bible is great poem. We have
in it faultless rhythm and bold imag-
cry and startling antithesis and rap
turous lyric and sweet pastoral and
instructive narrative and devotional
psalm; thoughts expressed in style
more solemn than that of Montgom-
cry, more bold than that of Milton,
more terrible than that of Dante,
more natural than that of Words
worth, more impassioned than that OF
Pollok, more tender than that Of
Cowper, more weird than that of
Spenser. This great poem brings all
the gems of the earth into its coronet,
and it weaves the flames of judgment
into its garlands and pours eternal
harmonies in its rhythm. Everything
this Book touches it makes beautiful,
from the plain stones OF the summer
thrashing floor to the daughters of
Major filling the troughs for the
camels, from the fish pools of Heshbon
up to the Psalmist praising God with
diapason of storm and whirlwind and
Jobs imagery Of Orion. Arcturus and
the Pleiades.
My text leads us into a scene of
summer redolence. The world has had
a great many beautiful gardens.
Charlemagne added to the glory of his
reign by decreeing that they be es-
tablished all through the realm, de-
Gliding even the names of the flowers
to be planted there. Henry w. at
Montpelier established gardens of be-
witching beauty and .uxuriance, gath
ering into them Alpine, Pyrenean and
French plants. One of the sweetest
spots on earth was the garden OF
Shenstone, the poet. His writings
have made but little impression on
the world, but his garden, the
''Leasowes," will be immortal. To the
natural advantages of that place was
brought the perfection of art. Arbor
and terrace and slope and rustic tenn
pie and reservoir and urn and fountain
here had their crowning. Oak and
yew and hazel put forth their richest
foliage. There was no life more dill
gent, no soul more ingenious than
gence and genius he brought to the
adornment of that one treasured spot.
He gave 800 for it. He sold it for
several thousand. And yet 1 am to
tell you to-day of richer garden
than any have mentioned. 1t is the
garden spoken of in my text-the
garden Of the church, which belongs
to. Christ, for my text says SO. He
bought it, He planted it, He owns it,
and He shall have it. Walter Scott.
in his outlay at Abbotsford, ruined his
fortune, and now. in the crimson flow
ers of those gardens, you can almost
think or imagine that you see the
blood of that old mans broken heart.
The payment Of the last e 100000
sacrificed him. But have to tell you
that Christ's life and Christ's death
were the outlay of this beautiful gar
den Of the church, of which my text
speaks. oh, how many sighs and
tears and pangs and agonies! Tell
me, ye women who saw Him hang! Tell
me, ye executioners who lifted Him
and let Him down! Tell me, thou sun
that didst hide, We rocks that fell!
"Christ loved the church and gave
Himself for it." If the garden of the
church belongs to Christ, certainly He
has a right to walk in it. Come, then,
o blessed Jesus. to-day. Walk up and
down these aisles and pluck what
Thous wilt Of sweetness for Thyself!
The church in my text is appropri-
ately compared to garden. because
It is a place Of choice flowers, Of Sc
lect fruits and of thorough irrigation.
That would be a strange garden
in which there were no flowers. II
nowhere else, they would be along
the borders or Mt the gateway. The
homeliest taste will dictate some
thing, if it be only the oldfashioned
hollyhock or dahlia or daffodil. But
II there be larger means then you
will find the Mexican cactus and blaz-
ing azalea and clustering oleander.
Well, now, Christ comes to His garden,
and He plants there some of the
brightest spirits that ever lowered
upon the world. Some of them are
violets, inconspicuous, but sweet as
Heaven. You have to search and find
them. You do not see them very
often, perhaps, but you find where
they have been by the frightened
face of the invalid and the sprig Of
geranium ON the stand and the new
window curtains keeping out the
glow of the sunlight. They are per-
haps more like the ranunculus, creep
ing sweetly along amid the thorns
and briers Of lie, giving kiss for
sting. And many man who has had
in his way some great black rock Of
trouble has found that they have COW
cred it all over with fiowery jasmine
running in and out amid the crevices.
These flowers in Christ's garden are
not. like the sunflower, gaudy in the
light, but wherever darkness hovers
over a soul that needs to be COM
forted there they stand, night bloom
ing cereuses. But in Christ's gar
den there are plants that may be bet
ter compared to the Mexican cactus