Connecticut western news., 1900-04-05

Snri NC pceuCn: -.IaII -S feGG: Let 1t be Jesus, everybody says let it 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: "l.et it be Jesus. Jesus. Jesus!'
 We sing his birth--the barn that sheltered him. the mother that nursed | him, the cattle that fed beside 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 or phans, the lame men that forgot their | crutches, the damsel 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 | boy with five loaves 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 tor | ment that heaved up against his cross in one foaming. wrathful, omnipotent surge, the sun dashed out and the | dead. shroud wrapped, breaking open | their sepulchers and rushing out to see what was the matter. We sing his res | urrection-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 painless air, higher and | higher, until he came to the foot of l the throne, and all heaven kept jubilee | at the return of the conqueror. Oh, is | there any song more appropriate for a | Sabbath night than this song of Jesus? Let the passersby 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. appro- priate for any hour, but especially | sweet and beautiful and blessed on ! Sabbath night.
 | Everlasting Music.
 | I say ence more Christ is the ever | lasting song. The very best singers sometimes gt tired; the strongest | throats sometimes gets weary, and many who sang very sweetly do not sing now, but I hope by the grace of God we will after awhile go up and sing the praises of Christ where we | will never be weary. You know there are some songs that are especially ap-
 propriate for the home circle. They
 stir the soul, they start the tears, they
 turn the heart in on itself and keep
 sounding after the tune has stopped
 like some cathedral bell which, long
 after the tap of the brazen tongue has
 ceased. keeps throbbing on the air.
 We'll, it will be home song in heaven; | all the sweeter because those who sang
 with us in the domestic circle on earth
 shall join that great harmony:
 | Jerusalem, my happy home,
 | Name dear to me;
 l When shall my labors have an end
 | In joy and peace in thee2
 | On earth we sang harvest songs as
 the wheat came into the barn and the
 barracks were filled. You know there
 is no such time on a farm as when
 they get the crops in, and so in heay-
 en it will be harvest song on the part
 of those who on earth sowed in tears
 and reaped in joy. Lift up your heads,
 ye everlasting gates, and let the
 sheaves come in! Angels shout all
 through the heavens, and multitudes l come down the hills crying: Harvest
 home! Harvest homew
 There is nothing more bewitching to
 one's ear than the song of sailors far
 out at sea, whether in day or night, as
 they pull away at the ropes-not much | sense often in the words they utter
 but the music is thrilling. So the song
 in heaven will be sailors song. They
 were voyagers once and thought they | could never get to shore, and before
 they could get things snug and trim
 the cyclone struck them. But now they
 are safe. Once they went with dam
 aged rigging. guns of distress booming
 through the storm, but the pilot came 1 aboard, and he brought them into the
 harbor. Now they sing of the break.
 CTS past the lighthouses that showed
 them where to sail, the pilot that took
 them through the straits, the eternal
 shore on which they landed.
 Aye, it will be the children's song
 You know very well that the vast ma.
 iority of our race die in infancy, and il
 is estimated that sixteen thousand mil
 lions of the little ones are standing be
 fore God. When they shall rise uI
 about the throne to sing. the millions
 and the millions of the little ones-ah
 that will be music for you, These
 played in the streets of Babylon and
 Thebes; these plucked lilies from the
 foot of Olivet while Christ was preach
 ing about them; these waded in
 Siloam; these were victims of Herod's
 massacre: these were thrown to croco
 diles or into the fire; these came uI
 from Christian homes, and these were
 foundlings on the city commons-chil
 dren everywhere in all that land, chil dren in the towers, children on the seas
 of glass, children on the battlements
 Ah, if you do not like children do not
 go there!
 Grand Chorus.
 The Christian singers and composers . of all ages will be there to join in that song. Thomas Hastings will be there Lowell Mason will be there. Beethoven
 and Mozart will be there. They who sounded the cymbals and the trumpets in the ancient temples will be there ; | The 10000 harpers that stood at tho . ancient dedication will be there. The , POO singers that assisted on that day | will be there. Patriarchs who liyeC amid thrashing floors, shepherds who , | watched amid Chaldean hills, proph |, cts who walked, with long boards ant ! coarse apparel, pronouncing woe against ancient abominations, vii meet the more recent martyrs who
 went up with leaping cohorts of fire ! O nd l. e.f l,.