Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 December 1888 — THE BONDAGE OF SIN. [ARTICLE]

THE BONDAGE OF SIN.

The, Devil Is a Hard Task Master. Th* Bon<UMt« «* 81 “ *• • De<rartL< S*r»le« from Nvhieh Thera •» No Beli f—Th* Saving Power <»f ihe oepel. Rev. Dr. Talmage preached at the Brooklyn Tabernacle last Sunday. Subject, "Lifted from the Brick Kilus.” Text, Psalms Ixviii, 13. Hesaid: 1 am going to preach something which some otfou do not belive. and that w* that the grandest possible adornment is the religion of Jesus Christ. There are a great many people who suppose that religion is a very different thing from what it really is. The reason men condemn the Bible is because they do not understand it; they have not properly examined it. Dr. Johnson said that Hume told a minister in the bishopric of Durham that'he bad never partienlarv examined the New Testament, yet all his life was warring against it And so men reject the religion of Jesus Christ because they really have never investigated it They think it something equivocal, something t hat will not work, something Pecksniffian, something hypocritical, something repulsive, when it is so bright tnd so beautiful you might compare'it to a chaffinch, you might compare it to a robin redbreast, you might compare it to a dove,its wings covered with silver and its feathers with yellow gold. But h<>w is it if a young man becomes a Christian? All through the clubrooms were be associates, all through the business circles where he is known, there is commiseration. They saV: “What a pity that a young man wno had such bright prospects should so have been despoiled by those Christians, giving up all his worldly prospects for something which is of no particular present worth!’’ Here is a young woman who becomes a Christian, her voice, her face, her manners the charm of the drawing-room. Now, all through the fashionable circles the whisper goes: “What a pity that such a bright light should have been extinguished, that such agraceful gait should be crippled, that su<h worldly prospects should be obliterateo!” Ah, my friends, it can be shown that religious ways are ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths are peace; that re.igion, inetead of being dark, and doleful, and lachrymose, and repulsive, is bright and beautiful, fairer than a dove, its wings covered with silver and its feathers with yellow gold. See. in the first place, what religion will do for a man’s heart-. I care not how cheei ful a man may naturally be before conversion; conversion orings him up to a higher standard of cheerfulness. Ido not say that he will laugh any loudei. Ido not say but be may stand back from some forms of hilarity in which he once indulged; but there comes into his soul an immense satisfaction. A young man, not a Christian, depends upon worldly success to keep his spirits up. Now he is prospered, now be has a large salary, now he has a beautiful wardrobe, now he has pleasant friends, now he has more, money than he knows how to spend, every thing goes bright and well with him. But trouble comes—there are many young men in the house this morning who can testify of their own experience that sometimes to young men trouble does come—his friends are gone, his health is gone, his salary is gone, goes down, down. He becomes scur, cross, queer, misanthropic, blames the world, blames society, blames the church, blameseveryt lung; rushes perhaps to the intoxicating cup to drown his trouble, but, instead of drowning his; trouble drowns his body and drowns his soul. But here is a Christian young man. trouble comes to him, Does he give up? No.He throwshimself back on the reggflrces of heaven. diTwhat a poor shallow stream is worldly enjoyment compared with the deep overflowing river of God’s peace, roiling midway in the Christian heart! Sometimes you have gone out on the iron-bound beach of the sea when there • as been a storm on the ocean, ai d you have seen the waves dash into white foam at your feet. They did not do you any barm. While there you thought oi the chapter written by the Psalmist, and perhaps you recited it to yourself while ine storm Was making comments y upon the passage: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in the time of trouble. ’ .

Oh, how indepenpent the religion of Christ makes a man of worldly succeed and worldly circumstances! Nelson, the night before his last battle, said: ‘ Tomorrow' I shall win a peerage ora grave in Westminister Abbey.” And it does not make much difference to the Christian whether he rises or fails in worldly matters; he has everlasting renown any way. Other plumage may be torn in the blast, but that teoul adourned Christian grace, is fairer than the dove, its wings covered with silver, and its feathers with yellow gold. You and 1 have found out that people who pretend to be happy are not always happy. Look at that young man caricaturing the Christian religion, scoffing at everytkipg good, going into roystering <lrunkenness, dashing the champagne bottle to the floor, rolling tlje glasses from the barroom counter, laugh ng. shouting, stamping the floor, shnetejpg. I.vlm happy? I will go to his midfaght pillow. 1 will see him turn the gas <ff 1 will ask mysdJL.if the pillow on which he sleeps is as soft as the pillow on which thatptfre young man sleeps. Ab! do. When he opens his eyes in the morning will the world be .as bright to him as to that young man, who retired at night saying his prayers, invoking God’s blessing upon his own soul and the souls of his comrades, ano father and mother and brother and sister far away? No, no. His laughter will ring out from the saloon so that you hear it as yov pass by, for :tis hollow laughter, in it is the snapping of heart strings and the rattle,, of prison gates. Happy! That young man happy? Let him fill high the bowl—he can not drown an upbraiding conscience. Let the balls roll through the bowling-alley; the deep rumble and the sharp crack can ‘not overpower the voices of condemnation. Let him whirl in the dance of sin and temptation and death. All the brilliancy of the scene can not make him forget the last look of his mother, as he left home, when she said to him: “Now, my son, you will do right; I am sure you will do right, you will, won’t you? * Thatyoungtaan happy? Why, across every night there flit shadows of eternal darkness; there are adders coiled up in every cup; there axe vultures of dei-pair striking their iron beaks into his heart; there are skeleton fingers of grief pinching at the throat. I come in amid ihe clinking of the glasses, and under the

flashing of the chandeliers, and I cry: “Woe! woe! The way of the ungodly shall/per There i« no peace, saith my God. to‘ the wipked. The way of transgressoi sis hard.” Oh, my friends, there is more joy in one drop of Christian satisfaction than in whose rivers of sinful delight. Other wings may be drenched of the-storm and splashed of the tempest, but the dove that comes in throu h the window of thia heavenly ark has wings like the dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold. ~.. , Again I remark, religion is an adornn ent in the style of usefulness into which it inducts a man. Here are two young men. The one has fine culture, exquisite wardrobe, plenty of friends, great worldly success, but he lives for himself. His chief care is for his own comfort. He-lives uselessly. He dies unregretted. Here is another young man. His apparel may not be so good, „h is education may not be so thorough. He lives for others. His happiness is to make o hers happy. He is astelf-denying as that dying soldier, falling in the ranks, when he said: “Colonel, there is no need of those boys tiring themselves by carrying me to the hospital; let me die just where I am.” So this young man of whom I speak loves G<>d, wants all the world to love Him, is not ashamed to carry a bundle of clothes up that dark alley to the poor. Which of those young men do you admire t e better? Ihe one a sham, the other a Prince Imperial. Oh, do you know of anything my hearer, that is more beautiful than to see a young man start out for Christ? I Here is some one failing; he lifts him up. Here is a vagabond boy; he intro uces him to a mission school. Here is a family freezing to death; he carries them a scuttle of coal. There are eight hundr d millions perishing in midnight darkness; by all possible means he tries to send them the Gospel. He may be laughed at, and he may be sneered at, and he u ay be carricatured, but he is not ashamed to go everywhere, saying: “I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. It is the power of God and the wisdom of God unto salvation.” Such a young man can go through everything. There is no force on earth or in hell that can resist him.

I show you three spectacles. Spectacle the first: Napoleon passes by with the nost that went down with him to Egypt, and • p .with him to Russia, and crossed the continent on the bleeding heart of which be set his iron heel, and across the quiV'ring flesh of which he went grinding the wheelsof his guncarriages in his dying moments asking his attendants to put on his military bools for him. Spectacle the second: Voltaire, bright and learned and witty and eloq ent, with tongue and voice and stratagem infernal, warring against God and poisoning whole kingdoms with his infidelity, yet applauded by the clapping hands of thrones and empires and continents—his last words, in delirium supposing Chris standing by the bedside—his last words: “Crush that wretch!”

Spectacle the third: Paul Paul insignificant in person, thrust out from all r fined association, scourged, spat on, hounded like a wild beast from city to city, yet trying to make the world good and heaven full; announcing resurrection to those who mourned at the barred gates of the dead; speaking consolations which light up the eyes of widowhood and orphanage and want with glow of certain and eternal release, undaunted before those who could take his life, his cheek flushed with transport, and bis eye on heaven; with one hand shaking defiance at all the foes of earth and all the principalities of hell, and with the other hand beckoning messenger angels to come and bear him away, as he says: “I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.”

Whic iof the three spectacles do you most admire? When the wind of death struck the conqueror and the infidel they were tossed like sea-gulls in a tempest, drenched of the wave, and torn of the hurricane, their dismal voices beard through the everlasting storm; but when the wave and the wind of death struck Paul, like an albatross, he made a throne of the tempest, and one day floated away into the-eahn, clear summer of heaven, brighter than the dove, its wings coverwitn silver, and the feathers with yellow gold. Oh! are you not in love with such a religion—a religion which can do so much for a man while he live, and-so much for a man when he comes to die? I suppose you may have noticed the contrast between the departure of a Christian" and the departure of an infidel. Deodorus, dying in chagrin because he could not compose a joke equal to the joke uttered at the other end of his table. ' Zeuxis, dying in a fit of laughter at the sketch of an aged woman—a sketch made by his own hand. Mazarin, dying playing cards, bis friends holding his hands because he was unable to hold them himself. All that bn one side, compared with the departure of the Scotch minister, who said to his friends: “I have no interest, as to whether I live or die; if I die. I shall be with the Lord and if I live the Lord shall be with me.” Or the last words Of Washington: “It is well.” Or the last words of Mclntosh, the learned and the great: “Happy!” Or the. last word of Hannah More, the < hristian poetess; “Joy!” Or those thousands of Christians who have gone, saying; “Lord ,Jesus. receive my spirit, Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ” “O death! where is thy sting? O grave! where is thy victory?” Behold the contrast! Behold the charm of the one; behold the darkness of the other! Now. I know it is-very popular in this day for young men to think there is something more charming in skepticism than in religion. They are ashamed of the religion of the cross, -and they pride themselves on their free thinking on all these subjects. My y oung friends, I want to tell you what I know from observation; that while skepticism is a beautiful land at the start, it is the great Sahara Desert at the last.

Oh, if relig : on does so much for a man on earth what will it do for him in heaven? That is the thought that comes to me now. If a soldier can afford to shout “Huzza!” when he goes into battle, how much more jubilantly he can afford to shout “Huzza!” when he has gained the victoryk If religion is so good a thing to have here, bow bright a thing it will be in heaven! I want to see that young man when the glories of heaven have robed and crowned him. I want to hear him sing when all huekiness of earthly colds is gone, and he rises Up with the great doxology. I want to know what standard he will carrv when marching under arches of pearl in the army of banners. I want to know what company he will keep in a land where they are

all Kings and Queens forever and ever. If I have induced one of you this morning to begin a better life, then I want to know it I may not in "this world clasp hands with you in friendship, I may not hear from your own lips tt>e story of temptation and sorrow, but I will clasp bands with -you when the sea is passed and the gates are entered. That I might woo you to a better life, .and that I might show you the gloriea with which God clothes His dear children in heaven, I wish I copld this morningswing bftfik one of ttfe twelve gates that there might dash upon your ear one shout of thetriumph, that there might flame upon ydur eyes one blaze of the splendor . £>fi, when I speak of that good land, you involuntarily think of some one there that you loved —father, mother, brother, sister, or dear little child garnered already. Yow want to know what they are doing this morning. I will tell you what they are doing. Singing. You want to know what they wear. Coronets of triumph. You wonder why oft they look to the gate of the temple, and watch and wait. I will tell you why 'they watch and wait and look to the gate of the temple. For your coming. I shout upward the news today, for I am sure some of you will repent and start for heaven. Oh, ye bright ones before the throne, your earthly friends are coming.