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About Plattsmouth weekly herald. (Plattsmouth, Nebraska) 1882-1892 | View Entire Issue (June 16, 1887)
I'LATTSMOUTll WEEKLY 11EKALD, Til LFIISDA Y, JUNE 10, 18S7.
p;?'; st. Stephen. .;v;
REV. DR. TALMAGE'S DISCOURSE
ji AT THE TABERNACLE.
Five Dlvlito Uapliaela Eihlbltcil in Ills
, Martyrdom Gazing Into Heaven Look-
lug at Christ Stoned Ills Iylug Prayer.
f Brooklyn, Juno 12. This morning nt tho
tabernacle tho Iiov. T. Do Witt Talmago, I),
D., expounded appropriate passages of script
ure, after which tho congregation sang tho
favorite hymn: "There is rest for thewonry."
The reverend doctor's text was Acta vii, .W-M:
"BolioM, I wjo the heavens opened, and the Son
Of Man standing on tho right hand of God.
Then they criod out with a loud voice and
stopped their ears, and ran uion him w ith one
accord, and cast him out of the city, and
Stoned him ; and the witnesses laid down their
clothes a ta young man's feet whoso name was
Saul. And they stoned Stephen, calling uion
God, and saying, Lord Jesus, receivo my
spirit. And ho kneeled down, and cried with
a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their
charge. And when he Wd said this, ho fell
asleep." The preacher said:
Stephen Lad been preaching a rousing ser
mon, and tho ieoplo could not stand it.
They resolved to do as men sometimes would
liko to do in this day, if they dared, with
some plain preacher of righteousness kill
him. The only way to silence this man was
to knock tho breath out of him. So tlu'y
rushed Stephen out of tho gates of the city,
ami with curse, and whoop, and bellow they
brought him to tho cliff, as was tho custom
when they wanted to take away life by ston
ing. Having brought him to tho edgo of tho
cliff they pushed liim off. After ho had fall
en they camo and looked down, and seeing
that ho was not yet dead, they began to drop
stones upon him, stono after ttjne, stone after
stone. Amid tins horrible rain of missiles,
Stephen clambers up on his knees and folds
his hands, while tho blood drips from his
temples to his cheeks, from Iris cheeks to Lis
garments, from his garments to tho ground;
and then, looking up, he makes two prayers,
one for himself and one for his murderers.
"Lord Josys, receivo my spi.it:" that was for
himself. "Lord, lay not this sin to their
charge that was for Lis assailants. Then,
from pain and loss of blood, ho swooned
away and fell asleep.
I want to show you to-day five pictures
Stephen gazing into Leaveu, Stephen looking
at Christ, Stephen stoned, Stephen in Lis dy
ing prayer, Stephen asleep.
First, look at Stephen gazing into Leaven.
Before you take a leap you want to know
where you are going to land. Before you
climb a ladder you want to know to what
point the ladder reaches. And it was right
that Stephen, within a few moments of
heaven, should bo gazing into it. We would
all do well to be found in tho same posture.
There is enough in Leaven to keep us gazing.
A man of large wealth nay Lave statuary in
tho hall, and paintings in the sitting room,
and works of art in all parts of tho house ;
but ho Las tho chief pictures in tho art gal
lery, ami there, hour after Lour, you walk
with catalogue and glass and ever increasing
admiration. Well, heaven is tho gallery
where God has gatlred tlio chief treasures
of Lis realm. The whole universe is hi3
palace. In this lower room where we stop
there are many adornments tessellated floor
of amethyst and blossom, and on the winding
cloud stairs are stretched out canvas on which
commingle azure, and purple, and saffron, and
gold. But heaven is tho gallery in which the
chief glories aro gathered. There are the
brightest rol es. There are tho richest crowns.
There aro tho highest exhilarations. John
eaj-s of it: "The kings cf the earth shall
bring their honor and glory into it.
And I see the procession forming; and in
tho line come all empires, and tho stars spring
up into an arch for the hosts to march under.
They keep step to the sound of earthquake
and the pitch of avalanche from the moun
tains, and the flag thoy bear is the flamo of a
consuming world, and all heaven turns out
with harps and trumpets and myriad voiced
acclamation of angelic dominion to welcome
them in, and so the kings of the earth bring
their honor and glory into it. Do you won
der that good people often stand like Stephen,
looking into heaven? We have a great many
friends there. There is not a man in thi3
house to-day so isolated in life but thore is
some one in heaven with whom he once shook
hands. As a man gets older the number of
his celestial acquaintances very rapidly
multiplies. We have not had one glimpse of
them since the night wo kissed them good by
and they went away; but still we stand
gazing at heaven. As when some of our
friends go across tho sea wo stid on tho
dock or on the steamtug and watch them,
and after awhilo the hum of tho vessel dis
appears, and then there is only a patch of
sail on the sky, and soon she is gone, and they
are all out of sight, and yet wo stand looking
in the same direction; so when our friends go
away from us into tho future world we keep
looking down through tho Narrows, and gaz
ing and gazing, as though we expected that
they would come out and stand on some
evening cloud, and giva us one glimpse of
their blissful and transfigured faces. While
3-0U long to join their companionship, and
the years and the da3s go with such tedium
that they break your heart, and the viper of
pain and sorrow and bereavement keeps
gnawing at your vitals, you still stand, like
Stephen, gazing into heaven. You wonder if
they have changed since you saw them last
You wonder if they would recognize your
face now, so change Vias it been with trouble.
You wonder if, amid tho myriad delights
they have, they caro as much for you as they
used to when they gave you a helping hand
and put their shoulder under your burdens.
You wonder if they look any older; and
sometimes, in tho eveningtido, when the
house is all quiet, you wonder if you should
call them by their first name if they would
not answer, and perhaps sometimes you do
mke the experiment, and when no one but
God and yourself are there you distinctly
call their names, and listen and wait, and sit
gazing into heaven.
Pass on now and see Stephen looking upon
Christ. My text says he saw the Son of man
at the right hand of God. Just how Christ
looked in this world, just how he looks in
heaven, wo cannot say. A witer in the time
of Christ says, describing the Saviour's per
sonal appearance, that he had blue eyes and
light complexion, and a very graceful struc
ture; but I suppose it was all guess work.
The painters of the different ages have Iried
to imagine tho features of Christ, and put
them upon oanvas; but we will have to wait
until with our own eyes we see him and with
our own ears we can hear him. And yet
there is a way of seeing and hearing him
now. I have to tell you that unless you see
and hear Christ on earth, you will never see
and hear him in heaven. Look I There he
is. Behold the Lamb of God. Can you not
see him? Then pray to God to take the
scales off your eyes. Look that way try to
look that way. His voice comes down to
you this day comes down to the blindest, to
the deafest soul, saying: "Look unto me, all
ye ends of the earth, and be ye saved, for I
am God, and there is none else." . Proclama
tion of universal emancipation for all slaves.
Proclamation f universal amnesty for all
rebels. Auasuerus gathered the Babylonish
nobles to his tabic; George I entertained the
lord of England at a banquet; Nnpoloon III
welcomed the czar of Utissin and the sultan
of Turkey to Lis feast; tho emperor of Ger
many waa glad to have our minister, George
Bancroft, sit down with him at LU table; but
tell me, ye who know most of the world's his
tory, what other king ever asked tho aban
doned, and tho forlorn, and the wretched, and
the outcast to come und nit down beside him?
Oh, wonderful invitation! You can take it
to-day and stand at the head of tho darkest
alley in all this city ami say : "Come! Clothes
for your rugs, salve for your sores, a throne
for your eternal reigning." A Christ that
talks like that, und acts like that, and pardons
like that do you wonder that Stephen stood
looking at LinW I hope to spend eternity do
ing the same thing. I must seo him. I must
look upon that face, once clouded with my sin,
but now ru'liunt with my pardon. 1 want to
touch thut hand that knocked off my
shackles. I want to hcur that voice which
pronounced my deliverance, Bohold him,
littlo children, for if you live to three score
years ail ten you will seo none so fair. Be
hold him, ye aged ones, for he only can shine
through tho dimness of your failing eyesight.
Behold him, earth; behold him, Leaven!
What a moment when all the nations of the
saved shall gather around Chri&t! All faces
that way; all thrones that way, gazing on
4fls worth, if all tho nations knew.
Sure the whole earth would love him too.
I puss on now, and look at Stephen stoned.
The world has always wanted to get rid of
good men. Their very life is on assault upon
wickedness. Out with Stephen through tho
gates of tho city. Down with hiin over tho
precipices. Let every man como up and drop
a stono upon his head. But these men did not
so much kill Stephen as thoy killed them
selves. Every stono rebounded upon them.
While theso murderers were transfixed by tho
scorn of all good men, Stephen lives in the
admiration of all Christians. Stephen stoned;
but Stephen alive. So all good men must bo
lelted. All who will livo godly in Christ
Jesus must suffer persecution. It is no eulogy
of a man to say that everybody likes him.
Show mo any one who is doing all his duty to
state or church and I will show you scores of
men who utterly abhor him.
If all men sieak well of you it is because
you aro either a laggard or a dolt. If a
steamer makes rapid progress through tho
waves tho water will boil and foam all around
it. Brave soldiers of Jesus Christ will hear
tho carbines click. When I see a man with
voice and money and influence all on the
right side, and some caricature him and some
sneer at him and some denounce him, and
men who pretend to be actuated by right
motives conspire to cripple him, to
cast him out, to destroy him, I say: "Stephen
stoned." When L. see a man in some great
moral or religious reform battling against
grog shops, exposing wickedness in high
places, by active means trying to purify the
church and better the world's estate, and I
find that tho newspapers anathemize him, and
men, even good men, oppose him and de
nounce him, because, though he does good,
he does not do it in their way, I say: "Stephen
stoned." The world, with Infinite spite, took
after John Frederick Oberlin, and Robert
Moffat, and Paul, and Stephen of tho text.
But you notice, my friends, that while thoy
assaulted him they did not succeed really in
killing him. You may assault a good man,
but you cannot kill him. On the day of his
death, Stephen spoke before a few people in
tho Sanhedrim; this Sabbath morn he ad
dresses all Christendom. Paul, the apostlo,
6tood on Mars Hill addressing a handful of
philosophers who knew not so much about
science as a modern school girl. To-day he
talks to all the millions of Christendom about
the wonders of justification and the glories
of resurrection. John Wesley was howled
down by the mob to whom ho preached, and
they threw bricks at him, and they denounced
him, and jostled him, and they spat upon him,
and yet to-day, in all lands, he is admitted to
be the great father of Methodism. Booth's
bullet vacated tho presidential chair, but
from that spot of coagulated blood on the
floor in the box of Ford's theatre there sprang
up the new life of a nation. Stephen stoned;
but Stephen alive.
Pass on now, and see Stephen in his dying
prayer. Ilia first thought was not how the
stones hurt his head, nor what would become
of his body. His first thought was about his
spirit. "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The
murderer standing on tho trap door, the
black cap being drawn down over his head
before the execution, may grimace about the
future; but you and I havo no shame in con
fessing some anxiety about where we aro go
ing to come out. You aro not all body. There
is within you a soul. I see it gleam from your
eyes today, and 1 see it irradiating'your coun
tenance. Sometimes I am abashed before an
audience, not because I come under your phy
sical eyesight, but because I realize the truth
that I stand before so many immortal spirits.
Tho probability is that your body will at last
find a sepulture in some of the cemeteries that
surround this city. There is ro ohbt but
that you will will be able to pillow your head
under the maple, or tho Norway spruce, or
the cypress, or tho blossoming fir; but this
spirit about which Stephen prayed, what
direction will that take? What guide will
escort it? What gate will open to receive
it? What cloud will be cleft for its pathway?
After it has got beyond the light of our sun,
will there be torches lighted for it tho rest of
tho way? Will tho soul have to travel
through long deserts before it reaches the
good land? If we should lose our pathway,
will there be a castle at whose gate we may
ask the way to the city? O, this mysterious
spirit within us! It has two wings, but it is
in a cage now. It is locked fast to keep it;
but lot the door of this cage open the least,
and that soul is off. Eagle's wing could not
catch it. The lightnings are not swift enough
to take up with it. When tho soul leaves the
body it takes fifty worlds at a bound. And
have I no anxiety about it? Have you no
anxiety about it? I do not care what you do
with my body when my soul is gone, or
whether you believe in cremation or inhuma
tion. I shall sleep just as well in a wrapping
of sackcloth as in satin lined with eagle's
down. But my soul before I leave this
house this morning I will find out where it is
going to land. Thank God for the intimation
of my text, that when we die Jesus takes us.
That answers all questions for me. What
though there were massive bars between here
and the city of light; Jesus could remove
them. What though there were great SaJ
haras of darkness; Jesus could illume them.
What though I get weary on the way; Christ
could lift me on his omnipotent shoulder.
What though there were chasms to cross; his
hand could transport me. Then let Stephen's
prayer bo my dying litany "Lord Jesus, re
ceive my spirit." It may be in that hour we will
be too feeble to say a long prayer; it may be
we will not be able to say tho Lord's prayer, for
it has seven petitions. Perhaps we may be
too feeble even to say the infant prayer our
mothers taught us, which JJohn Quincy
Adams, 70 years of age, said every night
when he put his head upon his pillow:
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
We may be too feeble to employ either of
these familiar forms; but this prayer of
Stephen is so short, is so concise, iM so earnest,
is so comprehensive, we surelyill be able
to say that: "Lord Jesus, recei'fe my spirit."
Oh, if that prayer is answered; Ww sweet it
will be to diet This woi Id ia uaver enough
to uk Perhaps it hax treated us a great deal
better than we deserved to bo treated; but if
on tho dying pillow there shall break tho
light of that better world, wo shall havo no
more regret about leaving a small, dark,
dump house for ono large, ljcautiful and ca
pacious. That dying minister in Philadelphia,
some years ago, lieautifully depicted it when,
in the last moment, he throw up his hands
and cried out:
"I move into tho light!"
Pass on now and I will show you one more
picture, and that is Stephen asleep. With a
pathos and simplicity peculiar to tho Scrip
tures, tho text says of Stephen: "He fell
asleep." "Oh," you say, "what a place that
was to sleep! A hard rock under him, stones
falling down upon him, tho blood streaming,
the mob howling. What a place it was to
sleep!" And yet my text takes that symbol
of slumber to describe his departure, so sweet
was it, so contented was it, so peaceful was
it. Stephen had lived a very laborious lifo.
His chief work had been to caro for tho poor.
How many loaves of bread ho distributed,
how many bare feet he had sandaled, how
many cots of sickness and distress he blessed
with ministries of kindness and love, I do not
know; but from the way ho lived, and tho
way ho preached, and the way he died, I
know ho was a laborious Christian. But that
is all over now. Ho has pressed the cup to
tho last fainting lip.
Ho has taken the last insult from his ene
mies. Tho last stono to whose crushing
weight ho is susceptible has been hurled.
Stephen is dead! The disciples come. They
take him up. They wash away the blood
from the wounds. They straighten out the
bruised limbs. They brush back the tangled
hair from the brow, and then they pass
around to look upon the calm countenance of
him who had lived for tho poor and died for
the truth. Stephen asleep! I havo seen tho
sea driven with the hurricane until tho
tangled foam caught in tho rigging, and
wave rising above wave seemed as if about to
storm the heavens, and then I have seen the
tempest drop, and tho waves crouch, and
everything become smooth and burnished a3
though a camping place for the glories of
heaven. So I havo seen a man, whose lifo
has been tossed and driven, coming down at
last to an infinite calm, in which there was
the hush of heaven's lullaby. Stephen asleep!
I saw such an ono. He fought all his days
against poverty and against abuse. They
traduced his name. They rattled at tho door
knob while he was dying, with duns for debts
ho could not pay; yet the peace of God
brooded over hi3 pillow, and while the world
faded, heaven dawned, and tho deepening
twilight of earth's night was only tho open
ing twilight of heaven's morn. Not a sigh.
Not a tear. Not a strugglo. Hush! Stephen
I have not tho faculty to tell tho weather.
I can never tell by tho setting sun whether
there will bo a drought or not. I cannot tell
by the blowing of tho wind whether it will
be fair weather or foul on tho morrow. But
I can prophesy, and I will prophesy what
weather it will be when you, tho Christian,
come to die. You may have it very rough
now. It may bo this week ono annoyance,
the next another annoyance. It may bo this
year one bereavement, the next another be
reavement. Before this year has passed you
may Lave to beg for bread, or ask for asouttlo
of coal or a pair of shoes; but spread your
death couch amid tho leaves of the forest or
make it out of the straw of a pauper's hut,
the wolf in tho jungle howling close by, or
inexorable creditors jerking the pillow from
under your dying head, Christ will come in
and darkness will go out. And though there
may bo no hand to close your eyes and no
breast on which to rest your dying head and
no candle to lift the night, tho odors of God's
hanging garden will regale your soul and at
your bedside will halt the chariots of tho
king. No more rents to pay, no more agony
because flour has gone up, no more struggle
with "the world, tho flesh and the devil," but
peace long, deep, everlasting peace. Stephen
"Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep,
Prom which none ever wake to weep;
A calm and undisturbed repose.
Uninjured by the last of foes.
"Asleep in Jesus, far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be;
But there is still a blessed sleep,
From which none ever wake to weep."
You have seen enough for one morning.
No one can successfully examine more than
live pictures in a day. Therefore we stop,
having seen this cluster of divine Raphaels
Stephen gazing into heaven; Stephen looking
at Christ; Stephen stoned; Stephen in his
dying prayer; Stephen asleep.
The rigmy anil the Giant.
That the worm will turn, under certain
provocation, is an undisputed axiom, but to
what avail it has ever been difficult to dis
cover. The Volks Zeitung is a plucky, out
spoken journal, and in consequence Prince
Bismarck caused the editor to be proceeded
against, but failed in the undertaking. . Now
the proprietor has turned plaintiff and has
prosecuted the German chancellor for parlia
mentary offenses against the paper and its
editor. The public prosecutor, however, Las
given it as his decision that, as Prince Bis
marck is a geueral of cavalry, ho can only be
made answerable to a military court.
To this The Volks Zeitung retorts that the
prince has never commanded with tho colors
and that his rank of general is purely honor
ary. In supjort of this view it draws atten
tion to tho fact that only the other day the
chancellor exercised, as he always has done,
his right of voting for a parliamentary can
didate, although soldiers on active service en
joy no electoral privileges. The Volks Zei
tung announces quite seriously that it intends
to carry the case through all the civil courts,
and, if necessary, before a military tribunal,
which will have one effect, that of worrying
the chancellor to desperate resorts, as he has
a terror of anything in the way of cross
examiuation. This contest between the pigmy
and the giant will arouse a great deal of
interest in the fatherland.
Victoria Morosinl's Husbaiid.
I met Mr. Huelscamp tho other day on a
Sixth avenue car, industriously collecting
fares, and do you know I begin to admire the
patient and uncomplaining manner in which
he has gone on earning a decent and humble
livelihood in the face of the largest possible
provocation from the other side of the Huels
camp question? Not a word seems ever to
have passed his lips against the wife who de
serted him, for after all she was his wife and
married him with her eyes open, nor even
against the relatives who have endeavored to
cover him with a coating of mud several feet
thick. I am not an admirer of coachmen
who run away with their master's daughters,
but this thing having been done by Mr.
Huelscamp, has he not since acted with re
markable discretion and commen sense?
David Hunter Strother.
Readers of Harper's Magazine of thirt
years ago will be glad to know that "Porte
Crayon," whose pen and pencil sketches of
life in the south in those days were so charm
ing, is passing a peaceful and prosperous old
age in his native state, Virginia. His real
name is David Hunter Strotber, and his ser
vice in the Union army during the war of
the rebellion entitles him to the title of "gen
eral" Gen. Strother is 70 years old and in
s ie&l !
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produces a horse, which, with same care and expense, will with ease travel double
the distance, or do twice the work of an ordinary horse. It costs no more to ford
and care to raise a good horse than a poor one. The good are always in demand,
and if sold bring double or treble the price of the common horse.
SIIAKKH IJOY will stand the coming season in Cass county, at the following
places and times: W. M. Loughriilge's stable at Murray, Monday and Tuesday of
each week. Owner's stable, one mile east of Eiht Mile drove, Wednesday and
Thursday. Louis Korrell's, at the foot of Main street, I'lattsmouth, who has a
splendid and convenient stable fitted up for the occasion, Friday and Saturday.
To insure marc with foal, $10.00, if paid for before foaling, and if not, $12. 00.
Care will be taken to prevent accidents, but will not be responsible, if any occur.
Any one selling mare will be held responsible for fees of service.
JOHN CL ESVlRfiOS.
WITHOUT MUST SKKINC. OOODS
You cannot fail to find what yon want at our 6tore. So please call before going
elsewhere, at the (Jolding Building, Main Street. I'lattsmouth, Neb.
Sign of the Padlock, ct 29 3yy5) JOHN S . LUKE
PORK PACKERS and dealeks in BUTTER AND EGGS.
BEEF, rORK, MUTTON AND VEAL.
THE BEST THE MARKET AFFORDS ALWAYS ON HAND. f
Sugar Cured Meals, Hams, Bacon, Lard, &c, &o-i
of our own make. The best brands of OYSTERS, in cans and bulk at
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL.
GIVE j. CAIjIj 2
Having moved into our new and elegant rooms in Union Block, we cordi-jtiviny it
those wanting the best of every kind of Meat to call on us. We can a v you
Mutton, Pork, Veal Beef, Ham Bacon,
FISH- ALL KINDS OF GAME IN SiSASON.
And everything else that is usually obtainable at a
FIRST CLASS IM.:K!A.T MARKET.
COME AND GIVE US A TRIAL.
One door south of F. G. Fricke & Co.'s Drug Store, Sixth Street, Plattsmouth, Neb.
Li LWliI'JIl! E, WJWM Ell I
Corner Pearl ami Seventh Streets.
DEALERS I1C A LI. KINDS OF
MISSED 2PAX2TTS, LIME,
Lowest ISates. Terms Cash
F. G. FRICKE & CO.,
(SCCCESSOli TO J. M. EOBEIITS.)
Will keep constantly on hand a full and complete stock of pure
Drugs and Medicines, Paints, Oils
Wall Paper and a Full Line of
AND OBTAINING" I'JIICKH AT
J. "W. JIartuis.
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