Pike County Democrat, Volume 25, Number 28, Petersburg, Pike County, 23 November 1894 — Page 6

TALMAGE’S SERMON. The Brooklyn Preaoher Presents a Cure for the Leprosy of Sin. The Lesson of the Proad Kin* Nasman, a Leper, and the Captive Hebrew Child—Christianity Anions Children. < Revr<T. DeWitt Talraage made selection of the following1 sermon for dissemination through the press this >- week. Its subject is: “The Sick General,” based upon the text: He was a leper.—II Kings, 1. Here we have a vyarrior sick; not with pleurisies or rheumatisms or consumptions, but a disease worse than sll these put together. A red mark has come out on the forehead, precursor of complete disfigurement. I have something awful to tell you. Gen. Naaman, commander-in-chief of all the Syrian forces, has the leprosy! It is on his hands, on his face, on his feet, „ on his entire person. The leprosy! Get out of the way of the pestilence! If his breath strike yon, you are a dead man. The commander-in-chief of all the forces of Syria! And yet be would be glad to exchange conditions with the boy at his stirrup, ^or the hostler that blankets his charger. The news goes like wildfire all through the realm, and the people are sympathetic, and they cry out: “It is impossible that our great hero, who slew Ahab, and around whom we came w’ith such vociferation when he returned from victorious battle—can it be possible that our grand and glorious Naaman has the leprosy?” Yes. Everybody has something he wishes' he has not. David, an Absalom to disgrace him; Paul, a thorn to sting him; Job, carbuncles to plague him; Samson, a Delilah to shear him; Ahab, a Naboth to deny him; Haman, a Mordecai to irritate him; George Washington, childnessness to afflict him; John Wesley, a termagant wife to pester him; Leah, weak eyes; Pope, a crooked back; Byron, a club foot; John Milton, blind** eyes; Charles Lamb, an insane sister; and you, and you, and you, and you, something which you never bargained for, and would like to get rid of. The reason of this is that God does not want this world to be too bright; otherwise, we w’ould always want to stay and eat these fruits, and,lie on these lounges, and shake hands in this pleasant society. We are only in the vestibule of a grand temple. God does not want us to stay on the doorstep, and therefore He sends aches, and annoyances, and sorrows, and bereavements of all sorts to push us on, and push us up toward riper fruits, and brighter society, and more radiant prosperities God is only whipping us ahead. The - reason that Edward Payson and Robert Hall had more rapturous views of Heaven than other people had was because, through their aches and'pains, Go(\pushed them nearer up to it. If God dashes out one of your pictures, it is only to show you a brighter one. If He sting your foot with gout, your brain with neuralgia, your tongue with an inextinguishable thirst, it is only because He is preparing to substitute a better body than you ever dreamed of, when the mortal shall put on immortality. It is to push you on, and to push you up toward something grander and better, that God sends upon you, as He did upon Gen. Naaman, something you do not want. Seated in his Syrian mansion—all the walls glittering with the shields which he had captured in battle; the corridors, crowded with admiring visitors, who just wanted to see him once; music and mirth, and banqueting filling all the mansion, from tessellated floor to pictured ceiljng—Naaman would have forgotten that there was anything better, and would have been glad to stay there ten thousand years. But O, how the shields dim, and how the visitors fly the hall, and how the music drops dead from the string, and how the gates of the mansion slam shut with sepulchral bang, as you read the closing words of the eulogium: He was a leper! He was a leper!”

There was one person more sympathetic with Gen. Naaman than any other ^person. Naaman’s wife walks th6 floor, wringing her hands, and trying to think what she can do to alleviate her husband’s snffering. All remedies have failed. The surgeongeneral and the doctors of the royal staff .have met, and they have shaken their heads, as much as to say: “No cure; no cure.” I think that the of-fice-seekers have all folded up their recommendations and gone home. Probably most of the employes of*the establishment had dopped their work and were thidking of looking for some other situation. What shall now become of poor Naaman’s wife? She must have sympathy somewhere. In her despair she goes to a little Hebrew captive, a servant-girl in her house, to whom she tells the whole story; as sometimes, when overborne by the sorrows of the world, and finding no sympathy anywhere else, you have gone out and found in the sympathy of some humble domestic—Rose, or Dinah, or Bridget— a help which the world could not give you. What a scene it was: one of the grandest women in all Syria in cabinet council with a waiting-maid over the declining health of the mighty general! “I know something,” says the little captive maid; “I know something,” as she bounds to her bare feet. “In the land from which I was stolen there is a certain prophet known by the name of Elisha, who can cure almost anything, and I shouldn’t wonder if he could cure my master. . Send for him right away.” “O hush!” you say. “If the highest medical talent of all the land can not cure that leper, there is no need of your listening to any talk of a servant girl.” But do not scoff, do not sneer. The finger of that little captive maid is pointing in the right direction. She might have said: “This i$ a judgement upon you for stealing me from my native land. Didn't they snatch me off in the night, breaking my father’s and mother’s ’ ^ ■> .

heart? and many a time I hare lain and cried all ilight because I was so homesick.” Then, flushing up into childish indignation, she might have said: “Good for them. I’m glad Naaman’s got the leprosy.” No. Forgetting her personal sorrows, she sympathizes wit h the suffering of her master, and commends him to the famous Hebrew piophet. And how often is it that the finger of childhood has pointed grown persons in the right direction. Oh, Christian soul, how long' is it since you got rid of the leprosy of sin? You say: “Let me see. It must be fire years now.” Five years. Who was it that pointed you to the Divine Physician? “Oh^” you say, “it was my little Amie, or Fred, or Charley, that clambered up on my knees, and looked into my face, and asked me why I didn’t become a Christian, and, all the while stroking my cheek so I couldn’t get angry, insisted upon knowing why I didn't have family prt yers.” There are grandparents who have been brought to Christ by their little grandchildren. There are hundreds ’ of Christian mothers who had their attention first called to Jesus by their little children. How did you get rid of the leprosy of sin? How did you find your way to the Divine Physician? “Oh,” you say, “my child—my dying child, with wan and wasted finger, pointed that way. Oh, I shall never forget,” you say, “that scene at the cradle and the crib that awful night. It was hard, hard, very hard; but if that little one on its dying bed had not pointed me to Christ, I don’t think I ever would have got rid of mj leprosy.” Go linto the Sabbath-school any Sunday and you will find hundreds of little fingers pointing in the same direction, toward Jesus Christ and toward Heaven. No wonder the advice of this little Hebrew captive threw all Naaman’s mansion and Ben-hadad’s palace into excitement Gobd-by, Naaman! With face scarified, and ridged and inflamed by the pestilence, and aided by those who supported him on either side, he staggers out to the chariot. Hold fast the fiery coursers of the royal stable while the poor sick man lifts his swollen feet and pain-struck limbs into the vehicle. Bolster him up 'with the pillows, and let him take a lingering look at his bright apartment, for perhaps the Hebrew captive may be mistaken, and the next time Naaman comes to that place he may be a dead weight on the shoulders of those who carry him—an expired chieftain seeking sepulture, amid the lamentations of an admiring nation. Good-by, Naaman! Let the charioteer drive gently over the hills of Hermon, lest he jolt the invalid. Here goes the bravest man of all his day a captive of a horrible disease. As the ambulance winds through the streets of Damascus the tears and prayers of all the people go after the world-re-nowned invalid. How the countrymen gaped as the procession passed! They had seen Naaman go pass like a whirlwind in days gone by, and had stood aghast at the clank of his war equipments; but now they, commiserate him. They say: “Poor man, he will never get home alive; poor man!” Tien. Naaman wakes up from a restless sleep in the chariot, and says to the charioteer: “How long before we shall reach the Prophet Elisha?” The charioteer says to a waysider: “How far is it to Elisha’s house!” He says: “Two miles. Two miles?” Then they whip up the lathered and fagged-out horses. The wliole procession brightens up at tne prospect of speedy arrival. They drive up to the door of the prophet. The charioteers shout “Whoa!” to the horses, and tramping hoofs and grinding wheels cease shaking the earth. Come out, Elisha, come out; you have company; the grandest company that ever came to your house has come to it now. No stir inside Elisha’s house. The fact was, the Lord has informed Elisha that the

sick captain was coming; and just how to treat him. Indeed, when you are sick, and the Lord wants you to get well, He always tells the doctor how to treat you; and the reason we have so many bungling doctors is because they depend upon their own strength and instructions, and not on the Lord God, and that always makes malpractice. Come out, Elisha, and tend to your business Gen. Naaman and his retinue waited, and waited, and waited. The fact was, Naaman had two diseases—pride and leprosy; the, one was as hard to get rid of as the other. Elisha sits quietly in his house, and does not go out. After a while, when he thinks he has humb]ed this proud man, he says to a servant: “Go out and tell Gen. Naaman to bathe seven times in the River Jordan, out yonder five miles, and he will get entirely well.” The message comes out. “What!” says the commander-in-chief of the Syrian forces, his eye kindling with animat ion which it had not shown for weeks, and his swollen foot stamping on the bottom of the chariot, regardless of pain. “What! Isn’t he coming out to set! me? Why I thought certainly he would come and utter some cabalistic words over me, or make some enigmatical passes over my wounds. Why, I don’t think he knows who I am. Isn’t he coming out? Why, when the Shunamite woman oame to him, he rushed out and cried: Ts it well with thee? is it well with thy husband? is it well with thy child? and will he treat a ]ooor unknown woman like that, and let me, a titled personage, sit here in my chariot and wait, and wait? I won’t endure it any longer. Charioteer, drive on! Wash in the Jordan! Ha! Ha! The slimy Jordan—the muddy Jordan—the monotonous Jordan. I wouldn’t be seen washing in such a river as that. Why, we watered our horses in a better river than that on our way here—the beautiful river, the jasper-paved River of Pharpar. Besides that, we have in our e&untry another Damascene river, Abana, with foliaged bank, the torrent ever swift and ever clear, under the flickering shadows of sycamore and oleander.

Are not Abana and Pharpar, rivers oi Damascus better than all the waters of Israel?” ^ Well, Gen. Naaman could not stand the test. The charioteer gives a jerk to the right line until the bit snaps in the horses month, and the whirr of the wheels and the flying of the dust show the indignation of the great commander. ‘‘He turned and went away in a rage.” So people now often get mad at religion. They vituperate against ministers, against churches, against Christian people. One would think from their irate behavior that God • had been studying how to annoy, and exasperate, and demolish them. What has he been doing? Only trying to cure their death-dealing leprosy. That is all. Yet they whip up their horses, they dig in their spurs, and they go away in a rage. So, after all, it seems that this health excursion of Gen. Naaman is to be a dead failure. That little Hebrew capi tive might as well have not told him of I the prophet, and this long journey might as well not have been taken. Poor, sick, dying Naaman! Are you going away in high dudgeon, and worse than when you came? As his chariot halts a moment, his servants clamber up in it and coax him to do as Elisha said. They say: “It’s easy. If the prophet had told you to walk for a mile on sharp spikes in order to get rid of this awful disease, you would have done it. It is easy. Come, my lord, just get down and wash in the Jordan. You take a bath every day anyhow, and in this climate it is so hot that it will do you good. Do it on our account, and for the sake of the army you command, and for the sake of the nation that admires you. Come, my lord, just try a Jordanic bath.” “Well,” he says, “to please you I will do as you say.” The retinue drive to the brink of the Jordan. The horses paw and neigh to get into the stream themselves and cool their hot flanks. Gen. Naaman, assisted by his attendants, gets dowfi oilt of the chariot and painfully comes to the brink of the river and steps in until the water comes to the ankle, and goes on deeper until the water comes to the girdle, &nd now standing so far down in the stream, just a little inclination of the head will thoroughly immerse him. He bows once into the flood, and comes up and shakes the water out of

nostril and ej*e; and his attendants look at him and say: “Why, general, how much better you do look.” And he bows a second time into the flood and comes up, and the wild stare is gone out of his eye. He bows the third time into the flood and comes up, and the shriveled flesh has got smooth again. He bows the fourth time in the flood and comes up, aijd the hair that had fallen out is restored in thick locks again all over his brow. He bows the fifth time into the flood and comes up, and the hoarseness has gone out of his throat. He bows the sixth time and comes up, an<j all the soreness and anguish have gone out of his limbs. “Why,” he says, “I am almost well, but I will make a complete cure,” and he bows the seventh time into the flood and he comes up, and not so much as a fester, or a scale, or an eruption as big as the head of a pin is to be seen on him. He steps out on the bank and says: “Is it possible?” And the attendants look and say: “Is it possible?” And as, with the health of an athlete, he bounds back into the chariot and drives on, there goes up from all his attendants a wild “huzza! huzza!” Of course, they go back to pay and thank ths man of God for his counsel so fraught with wisdom. When they left the prophet’s house 'they went off mad; they have come back glad. People always think better of a minister after they are converted than they do before conversion. Now, we are to them an intolerable nuisance, because we tell them to do things that go against the grain; but some of us have a great many letters from those who tell us that once they were angry at what we preached, but afterward gladly received the Gospel at our hands. They once called us fanatics, or terrorists, or enemies; now they call us friends. Yonder is a man who said he would never coine into the church again. He said that two years ago. He said: “My family shall never come here again if such doctrines as that are preached.” But he came again, and his family came again. He is a Christian, his wife a Christian, all his children Christians, the whole household Christians, and you shall dwell with them in the house of the Lord forever. Our undying coadjutors are those who once hear d the Gospel, and “went away in a rage.” I suppose that was a great time at Damascus when Gen. Naaman got back. The charioteers did not have to drive slowly any longer, lest they jolt the invalid; but as the horses dashed through the streets of Damascus I think the people rushed out to hail back their chieftain. Naaman’s wife hardly recognized her husband; he was so wonderfully changed she had to look at him two or three times before she made out that it was her restored husband. And the little captive maid, she rushed out, clapping her hands and shouting: “Did he cure you? Did he cure you?”- Then music woke up the palace^ and the tapestry of the windows wtos drawn away, that the multitude outside might mingle with the princely mirth inside, and the feet went up and down in the dance, and all the streets of Damascus that night echoed an. reechoed with the news: “Naaman’s cured! Naaman’s cured!” But a gladder time than that it would be if your soul should get cured of its leprosy. The swiftest white horses hitched tc the King’s chariot would rush the news into the eternal city. Our loved ones before the throne would welcome the glad tidings. Your children on earth, with more emotion than the little Hebrew captive, would notice the change in your look and the change in your manner, and would put their arms around your neck and say: “Mother, I guess you must have become a Christian. Father, I think you have got rid of the leprosy.” O, Lord, God of Elisha, have mercy on us!

WILSON’S DEFEAT. BoTelctsaeai of 111* Battle Against the Money Power. Democracy defers to one of its fundamental principles in bowing to the will of the majority as expressed at the election. Yet it cannot but regard as a national calamity the fact that Representative Wilson, of West Virginia, was buried in the avalanche from which no part of the country escaped. Even though he remained as a member of the minority he would have stood as an able exponent of the tariff views to which his party is committed and guarded the country against the dangers which accompany the adoption of ultra protection theories. Waiving any question as to the correctness of his views, even his enemies will acknowledge him a most formidable champion of the cause that he represents. No one will question the sincerity of | Mr. Wilson or the honesty of the purj pose which actuates his course toward i the people. He is a man of profound learning, and no one can more forcibly express his convictions. In the knowledge of the tariff question most of those who oppose him are mere tyros by comparison. He is a true patriot, earnestly seeking that which he believes to be the best interests of the entire nation, and his influence could not but be a healthy one, even upon an opposing majority. But it was his virtues that brought about his political overthrow. Because of them the controlling powers of the republican party determined upon his defeat. He was a menace to the trusts and monopolies that are the beneficiaries of .protection. The triumph of his views meant the deprivation of their legal authority to plunder the masses by their cunningly devised system operated for the ostensible purpose of paying higher wages to labor and netting greater profits to the farmer. In seeking the accomplishment of their purpose these representatives of the money power left nothing undone. They concentrated their forces for the defeat of Mr. Wilson. McKinley was sent to the district, ex-President Harrison appeared there on the stump and scores of others who are regarded as strong workers in their party were engaged to assist in defeating • the leading personal representatives of tariff reform. Money was expended without stipt and all the devices known to the “practical” politician were employed against him. lie was a victim to the evils which he sought to remedy, while the1 consequences will fall most heavily upon those for

whom he sought equitaoie legislation. This is the fate of reformers who come in conflict with those who reap the fabulous profits of so-called protection. Morrison led the fight against them in 18S4, and his political career was suddenly cut short. Mills gallantly took up the battle in 1888, and though he was a representative from the state of Texas, his defeat was brought about at the next election, and only by intervention of the state legislature which named him to the senate was he preserved to the councils of the nation. From these facts some idea of the power exercised by' the trusts, combines and monopolies can be gained, and they will continue the controlling influence of the republican party until their true measure is taken by the people. Then they will appreciate men like Wilson.—Detroit Free Press. A TRANSPARENT FARCE. Republican Protectees Already Showing Their Bands. Now that they have accomplished the purpose for which they shut down and threw their men out of employment, the republican mill bosses and protectees generally are resuming operations, full of animation and buoyancy. Says a Pittsburgh dispatch to a Chicago McKinley organ: “Simultaneously with the announcement of results came a notice from the Oliver & Robers Wire company that the rod mill would be started at once. Like many of the other mills, it worked only when the mill had orders. The employers were so well pleased over the election that orders to start up were given. Other mill owners say they will now replenish their stocks, and a long and prosperous period of activity is looked for.” Miraculous! One would suppose from this statement that the McKinley law was already restored, and that the mill bosses were no longer afflicted with the 4‘ruinous Wilson bill. ” But not so. That bill is with us to stay for more than two years, at the least. Of course, the mill bosses know It, and when they rekindle their fires and proceed to “stock up” and hilariously give out that they look for “a long and prosperous period of activity”—when they do this avowedly because the election has gone to suit them they admit that there is nothing %t all ruinous about the “free trade bill.” They admit that they expect “a long and prosperous period of activity” under that bill, for everybody knows they can get no other bill for more than two years. They admit that neither the fear of the bill nor the bill itself was the cause of hard times, but that they themselves purposely made times as bad as they could for electioneering purposes. There may be some people who do not see through their game now, but there will not be many 'such two years hence.—Chicago Herald. - -Please note how the calamity howlers are already tuning up to sing their little song of prosperity’s revival According to the senior republican organ and a few others of its ilk the tin, wool, iron and other lines of industry by some occult process were suddenly, as in the twinkling of an eye, changed from dejection and despair to buoyant hope and confidence when the election returns came in.—Chicago Times. -Ohio’s immense republican majority is largely accounted for by the fact that McKinley did most of his campaigning outside of that state.— Detroit Free Press

REPUBLICAN DUPLICITY. How They Manipulated the Treasury Voder Harrison. The condition of the treasury at the close of Mr. Harrison's administration is pretty well known to intelligent people, bat there has been a systematic effort by the republicans to misstate it The official figures furnished by Secretary Carlisle show that the net balance in the treasury was $166,000,000 at the beginning of Mr. Harrison’s administration, and 834,000,000 at the close. Much is made of the fact that a good deal of the public debt was paid off under Mr. Harrison, but Mr. Carlisle shows that the redaction under Harrison was $336,000,000, while under Cleveland’s first administration it was $341,000,000. These two items show a difference of nearly $250,000,000 in favor of the Cleveland administration. Republicans have persistently tried to misrepresent the condition of the treasury in the last days of the Harrison administration. It has been charged by Congressman Dockery and others that Secretary Foster cansed plates to be prepared for the issue of bonds. Mr. Foster took the precaution to have inquiries made at Washington whether any letter of his was on file there showing that he had done this. He was informed that no such letter had been found after a hasty search. Then Mr. Foster wrote a letter, in which he said: “Mr. Dockery was mistaken. No such action was taken. Its absurdity is so apparent that I wonder that a gentleman of Mr. Dockery’s intelligence should make himself responsible for such a blunder. The only bonds authorized then, as now, were those authorized by the resumption act.” Then a more careful search 6f the treasury files was made, and the following letter from Mr. Foster to the chief of the bureau of engraving and printing, dated February 20,1893, came to light: “You are hereby authorized and directed to prepare designs for the 3 per cent, bonds provided in the senate amendment to the sundry civil bill, now pending. The denominations which should first receive attention are tlOJ and $1,030 of the coupon bonds and 4100, $1,000 and $10,003 of the registered bonds. This authority is given in advance of the enactment, in view of pressing contingencies, and you are directed to hasten the preparation of the designs and plates in every possible manner.” The bill providing for the three per cent, bonds failed to become a law, and they were not issued. But the essential fact that there were “pressing contingencies” which made an issue of bonds desirable, within two weeks of the close of Mr. Harrison's term, appears clearly from Mr. Foster’s letter. These contingencies were so very pressing that Mr. Foster thought it imperative to have the plates prepared before the law was passed. Yet when testimony was wanted by republican campaign managers to break the- force of this damaging fact, Mr. Foster signed a letter saying that ho wondered that Mr. Dockery would make himself responsible for so absurd a statement. The profligacy of republican administrations has long been known. Tne Fifty-first congress saddled upon the country expenditures which will last for more than a generation. Yet the republicans are asking that the purse of the nation shall again be intrusted to their keeping. The country has suffered so much from the last republican congress that it ought to be wise enough to refuse to be plundered again.—Louisville Courier-Journal.

POINTS AND OPINIONS. --Boodle did it! The plutocratic monopolists spent millions to down the democracy.—Springfield Register. -It looks as if the political pendulum had swupg too far one way th;s time to be neat'the center of gravity. —Boston Herald. —-Republicanism, rejuvenated for the moment by calamities of its own contrivance, has triumphed again, but it triumphs as a minority over a divided majority.—Chicago Herald. -In the last quarter of a century every defeat which the democratic party has sustained in this state and through this state in the country at large is wholly or largely due to Tam‘Inany hall.- - Buffalo Courier. -The plutocrats the republicans are preparing to send to the United States senate will have their uses there. Only a ten more money-sack senators are needed to assure the election of all senators by direct vote of the people.—N. Y. World. -Ex-President Harrison is a shade premature in the conclusion that the recent electioii was conclusive as to the vote two years from now. There will be plenty of democrats at the polls in ’96—too many for the Harrison family.—Chicago Times. ——In McKinley’s old district in Ohio the republican candidate for congress got 12,600 votes, the democratic candidate 11,403 votes and Gpn. Coxey 9,200 votes. This looks as if McKinleyism was without conspicuous honor in its own bailiwick yet—Boston Herald. ——‘Figures demonstrate plainly that the stay-at-homes were very largely responsible for the democratic slump. It is a well-established principle of this government that men cannot refrain from voting and at the same time haVe their votes counted.—Detroit Free Press. -According to distinguished irepublican authority McKinleyism is to be revived only in a few respects. “The tariff on wool and on lumber will be restored,” ne says. That is the first menace from the party coming into power. Higher prices for clothing and carpets and higher prices for building materials, making rents higher and increasing the cost of constructing a home. —Chicago Herald. -The battle for tariff reform will have to go down foot and take a new start. The battle over the money issue will soon be upon us. We shall see whether there is democracy enough left of the true and blue stripe to make a great-coat good against all weather; or whether we must still wear a coat of many colors, covering not a homogeneous party, inspired by faith and truth, but a mere bundle of factions thrown together by the upheaval of the times. — Louisville Courier-Jour-nal

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