The Birmingham age-herald., 1903-11-15

Chicago, November s.--In this sermon the preacher urges a return to the "old paths"-the simple Christian faith in the Saviour and his promises-as the only means of securing the greatest of bless ings, relief from the oppressive burdens of life, which bear heavily on humanity. The text is Matthew xxi, 2S. Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden' and I will give you rest"
 Like the sensitive opal this text shines best when it has been heated by the fires of tribulation. Like the diamond, it gilt ters and sparkles brightest when it has been cut by the lapidary Of trouble Like some of the autumnal fruits, it is sweet est to the parched lips when it has been frost-bitten. Like the morning sunrise, it is the most gladly welcomed by the poor, tired invalid, who, unable to sleep during the long, weary hours of the night has tossed upon the hot, fevered pillow and wished for the day. Like the sight of the old homestead, it is most desired by the ragged outcast of a repentant prodigal, wearied with his journey from the far country, who sees again his fa- lHSf ; llOHltf WHtIt It SHdll llnu lOi BlNt- ness and love.
 These old promises of the Bible. offer ing rest and peace to those who are troubled and in pain and sin, have a far different meaning to us after we have been compelled to lift the cup of sorrow to our lips and drink it's contents to the bitter dregs. When we first begin to study Gods word we are like to that young man who for the first time stood before famous picture. All the artistic world was rendering homage to that can vas and declaring that it was a master piece. Yet what did the young man in his ignorance say? "Ah. yes, that is a very pretty picture, but l do not see any thing so wonderful in it." But after awhile that young man began to study art In his studies he developed the latent or dormant artistic powers of his mind and soul. He not only studied in the art schools of America, but he crossed the seas and went to the schools of France and Italy He sat at the feet of the great masters. Then. fresh from his studies, he came back and stood a second time before that same picture. Now 1t seemed to him a different canvas from that which he first saw. His cheek flushed; his eyes grew bright; he looked at that picture first from one side of the room and then the other. At last, after many minutes of glorious soul thought, he cried out in rapture: Beautiful. Beautiful. Is it not beautlful!' When young men and young women first open the Bible the gospel promises in reference to sorrows and heavy burdens do not ap- peal very strongly to them. Their hori- zons are always rainbowed. Their hill- sides are always hanging gardens and ter raced vineyards Their bodies always seem to have the warm, rich blood of perpetual youth coursing through their veins. A physlcians prescription is not sought after by the well nor an oculist by those having good eyes. But when, like that young man who studied in the art schools of Europe, after we have been compelled to take a long course in the "school of adversity' and then post graduate course after postgraduate course oh, then how different Gods sweet promises appear to us!
 An Interpretation.
 Today would talk to those who have foundered knee deep and chin deep in the quicksands of trouble. l would try to interpret to you what the gospel rest of my text means. I would interpret 1t moi only for those who have found this rest but also for those who may be persuaded to seek it as a God given blessing at the foot of the cross. What is your burden, my brother? Perhaps 1t is some sorrow common to the whole human race. It Is very heavy and no lighter from the fact that others are bearing the same load Perhaps it is some trouble peculiar to yourself that you cannot bear to describe even to a friend Every heart knoweth its own bitterness:" but, whatever 1t may be- the invitation Christ gives is for you.
 He offers you rest from the overwhelm- ing burdens of sin. This was the heavy pack which nearly crushed the tired pill grim in Bunyan's great aliegory. It Is the heavy burden that makes the hearts and brains and eyes and feet and hands and the backs of all terrihcally ache dur ing the sad journey of life.
 The past and the present, like the Sl- amese twins, are inseparably joined From a human standpoint we cannot live in the today" without feeling the blistered lips of the yesterday breathing upon our cheeks. In Dantes "Inrerno" there was one region in which suffering spirits had their necks twisted by the. king of terrors. While they might be walking in one di- rection their eyes were always turned to the rear. In life's journey the remorseful eyes of the unforgiven sinner are always turned to the rear. They are always look ing at the threatening results of evil deeds which may have been committed years ago. "Oh," says the royal prose- cutting attorney. M. de Villefort, in Du- mas greatest story, If l could only get rid of the burdens of my past sins! But I cannot; I cannot" No he can not The evil results of those sins like 8 hound upon the track of a hare, never lose their scent They track the sinner from town to town; they track him into the Parisian capital; they track him until al last Villefort's reason becomes deranged and as a madman he passes the rest of his life behind iron bars.
 I read only a short time ago of an old man who was at last brought to justice on account of a sin of his youth. In a northern state over a quarter Of cen tury ago he committed a murder and fed He went to live in the mountainous regions of Kentucky. He married there are reared large family of children After his hair was white and back bent the sleuthhounds of the law found him. He was arrested and handcufed. He was brought back to his childhood home In his old age he had to answer for the crime of his youth An unforgiven man can never get any rest from the heavy, re- morsefu burdens of sins, no matter when they were committed. These unpardoned sins will curse his life as they bespattered the beautiful hands of Lady Macbeth with the blood of the murdered Duncan. They will hiss at him as the haunting specters terrified the sleeping King Rich- ard after the murder of his two nephew WIS or as the cries of the dying during the St. Bartholomew massacre never ceased to echo in King Charles ears.
 You tell me that a sin committed can never be undone. You say that the guilty can never become innocent; that the soul stained and polluted with transgression