Rensselaer Republican, Volume 28, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 October 1895 — TALMAGE’S SERMON. [ARTICLE]

TALMAGE’S SERMON.

THE PREACHER MAKES A POINT BLANK QUERY. Jehu’s Question to Jehonadab—lt Was Not More Appropriate for Tbat Hour and Place than it Is for This Hour and Piece—An Eloquent Discourse. Is Thy Heart Right? " In bis sermon last Sunday Rev. Dr. Talmage spoke directly to the hearts of all who have not Jet definitely accepted the free offer of salvation in Christ Jesus. The subject was “A Point Blank Question,” the text being 11. Kings x., 15. “Is thina heart right?* With mettled horses at full speed, for he was celebrated for fast driving, Jehu, the Warrior and king, returns from batlift. ~ But seeing Jehonadab, an acquaintance, by the wayside, he shouts: “Whoa! Whoa!” to the lathered span. Then leaning over to Jehonadab, Jehu salutes him in the words of the text—words not more Appropriate for that hour and that place than for this hour and place, “la thine heart right?” I should like to hear of your physical health. Well myself, I like to have everybody eife well, nnd so might ask: Is your eyesight right, your hearing right? Are your nerves right, your lungs right? Is your entire body right? But I am busy to-day taking diagnosis of the more important spiritual conditions. I should like to hear of your financial welfare. I want everybody to have plenty of money, ample apparel, large storehouse and comfortable residence, and I might ask: Is your business right, your income right? Are your worldly surroundings right? But what are these financial questions* compared with (he inquiry as to whether you have bee n able to pay your debts to God; «s to whether yon are insured for eternity; as to whether you are ruiniug yourself by the long credit system of the soul? I have known men to have no more than •one loaf of bread at a time, and yet to own a government bond of heaven worth more than the whole material universe. The question I ask you to-day 5 not in regard to your habits. I make no,inquiry about your integrity, or your chastity, or your sobriety. Ido not mean to Bland on the outside of the gnte and ring the bell, but coming up the steps 1 open the door •and come to the private apartment of the aoul, and with the earnestness of a man that must give an account of this day’s w r ork I cry out, O man, O woman immortal, is thine heart right? I will not insult you by an argument to prove that, we are by nature all wrong. If there be a factory explosion, andt the amokstack be upset, and the wheels be broken In two, and the engine unjointed, and the ponderous bars be twisted', and a man should look In and say that nothing was the matter, you would pronounce him - a fool. Well, it needs no acumen to discover that our nature is all atwist and askew and uujoiuted. The thing doesn’t work right. The biggest trouble we have in the world is with our souls. Men sometimes say that, though their lives-may not be just right, their heart is all fight. Impossible. A farmer never puts the poorest apples on top of his barrel, nor does the' merchant place the meanest goods in his show window. The best part of us is our outward life. I do not stop to discuss whether we all fell in Adam, for we have been our bWn Adiftii, fttfd have all eaten of the forbidden fruit, and have been turned out of the paradise of holiness and peace, and though the flaming sword that stood at the gate to keep us out has changed position and comes behind to drive us in we will not go.' The Bible account of us in not exaggerated when it says that we are poor and wretched and miserable and blind and naked. Poor! The wretch that stands shivering on our doorstep on a cold day is not so much in need of bread as we are of spiritual help. Blind! Why, the man whose eyes perished in the powder blast and who for these ten yenrs has gone feeling his way from street to street is not in such utter darkness as we. Naked! Why, there is not one rag of holiness left to hide the shame of our sin. Sick! Why, the leprosy has eaten into the head, and the heart, and the hands, and the feet, and the marasmus of an everlasting wasting away has already seized on some of us. But the meanest thing for a man to do is to discourse about an evil without pointing a way to have it remedied. I speak of the thirst of your hot tongue only that I may show you the living stream that drops crystalline and sparkling from the Rock of Ages nnd pours a river of gladness at your feet. If I show you the rents in your coat, it is only because the door of God’s wardrobe now swings open, and here is a robe white with the fleece of the Lamb of God, nnd of a cut and make that an angel would not be ashamed to wear. First we need a repenting heart. If for the last ten, twenty, or forty years of life we have been going on in the wrong way, it is time that we turned aroundoJbd started in the opposite direction. If we offend our friends, we are glad to apologize. God is our best friend, and yet how many of us have never apologized for the wrongs we have done Him! There is nothing that we so much need to get rid of as sin. It is a horrible black monster. It polluted Eden. It killed Christ It has blasted the workb- Men keep dogs in kennels, and rabbits in a warren, and cattle in a pen. What a man that vould be who would shut them up in his parlor! But this fotil dog of sin and “these herds of transgression we have entertained for many a long year in our heart, whloh should bo the cleanest, brightest room in all our nature. Gut with the vile herd! Begoue, ye befoulers of an immortal nature! Turn out the beasts and let Christ come In! A heathen came to an early Christian who had the reputation of curing diseases. The Christian caid “You must have all your idols destroyed.” The heathen gave to the Christian the key to his house, that he might go in and destroy the idols. He battered to pieces ail he saw, but still the man did not got well. The Christian said to him: “There must be some idol In your house not. yet destroyed.” The heathen confassed that there was one idol of beaten gold that ho could not bear to give up. After awhile, when that was destroyed, In answer to the prayer of the Christian the sick man got well. ~ J Many a man has awakened in his dying hour to find his sins all about him. They clamber np on tbe right side of the bed, and on the left side, and over the headbonrd, and over the footboard, altd horribly devour the>soul. “Repent, the voice of celestial cries. Nor looser dare delay. - <

The wretch that scorns the mandate dice And meets a fiery day.” Again, we need a believing heart. A good many years ago a wearj*one went up one of the hills of Asia Minor, and with two logs on his back cried out to all the World, offering to carry their sins and sorrows. They pursued him. They slaved him in the face. They mocked him. When lie groaned, they groaned. They shook their fists at him. They spat on him.. They hounded him as thongh he were a wild beast. His healing of the sick, his sight giving to the hlind, his mercy to the outcast silenced not the revenge of the world. His prayers and benedictions were lost in that whirlwind of execration: “Away with him! .'Amy with him!” Ah, it was not merelA the two pieces of wood that he carried. It was the transgressions of the race, the anguish of the ages, the wrath of God, the sorrows of hell, the stupendous interest of an unending eternity. No wonder his back bent. No wonder the Wood started from every pore. No wonder that he crouched under a torture that made the sun faiht, and the everlasting hillaT tremble, and the dead rush up in their winding sheets as he cried: "KTt be possible, let this cup pass from me.” But the cup did not pass. None to comfort.

There he hangs! What has that hand done that it should be thus crushed in the palm? It has been healing the lame and wiping away tears. What has that foot been doing that it should be so lacerated? It has been going about doing good. Of what has the victim been guilty? Guilty of saving a world. Tell me, ye heavens and earth, was there ever such another criminal? Was there ever such a crime? On that hill of enrnage, that sunless day, amid those howling rioters, may not your sins and mine have perished? I beliete it. Oh, the ransom has been paid! Those arms of Jesus were stretched out so wide that when he brought them together again they might embrace the wofid. Oh, that I might, out of the blossoms of the spring er the flaming foliage of the autumn, make one wreath for my Lord! Oh, 'that all the triumphal arches of the world could be swung in one gateway, where the King of Glory might-come in! Qh, that all the harps and trumpets and organ's of earthly music might iri one authem speak His praise! r — . v ■ ' But what were earthly flowers to Him who walketli amid the snow of the white lilies of heaven? What were arches of -earthly masonry to him who hath about his throne a rainbow spun out of everlasting sunshine? What were all -earthly music to him when the hundred and forty and four thousand on one side, and the cherubim and seraphim and archangels stand on the other side, and all the space between is filled with the doxologies of eternal jubilee—the hosanna of a redeemed earth, the halleluiah of unfallen angels, song after song risin&about the throne of God and of the Lamb? In’thnt pure, high plqce let him hear us. Stop, harps of heaven, that our poor cry may., be heard. Omy Lord Jesus, it will not hurt thee for one hour ts) step out from the shining throng. They will make 1t all up when thou goest back again. Come hither, O blessed one, that we may kiss thy feet. Our hearts, too long withheld, we now surrender into thy keeping. When thou goest back, tell it to all the immortals that the lost are found and let the Father's ring with the music and the dance. They have some old wine in heaven not used except in rare festivities. In this world those who are accustomed to use ■wine on great occasions bring out the beverage and snyV “TSis wine is thirty years old” or “forty years old.” But the wine of heaven is more than eighteen centuries old. It was prepared at the time when Christ trod the wine press alone. When such grievous Sinners as we come back, methinks the chamberlain of heaven cries out to the servants: “This is unusual joy. Bring up froTn the vaults of heaven that old wine. Fill all the tankards. Let alt the white robed guests drink to the immortal health of those newborn sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty,” “There is joy in heaven among the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth,” and God grant that that one may be y/iu!

Again, to have a right heart It must bo a forgiving heart. An old writer says: “To return good for evil is Godlike. Good for good is manlike. Evil for good devillike.’' Which of these natures have we? Christ will have nothing to do with us as long as we keep any old grudge. We have all been cheated and lied about. There are people who dislike us so much that if we should come down to poverty and disgrace they would say: “Good for him! Didn’t I tell you so?” They do not understand us. Unsanctified human nature says: “Wait till you get a good crack at him, and when at last you find him in a tight phu;e give it to him. Flay him alive. No quarter. Leave not a rag of reputation. Jump on-him with both feet. Pay him in his own coin—sarcasm for sarcasm, scorn for scorn, abuse for abuse.'” But, my friends, that is not the right kind of heart. No man ever did so mean a thing toward us as wo have done toward God. And if we cannot forgive others, how can we expect God to forgive us? Thousands of men have been kept out of heaven by an unforgiving heart. Here is some one who says: “I will forgive that man the wrong £o did me about that house and lot. I will forgive that man who overreached me in a bargain. I will forgive that man who sold me a shoddy overcoat. I forgive them—all but one. That man I cannot forgive. The villain— I can hardly keep my hands off him. If my going to heaven depends on my forgiving him, then I will stay out.” Wrong feeling. If a man lie to me once, I am not called to trust him again. If a man betray me once, I am not called to put confidence in him again. But I would have no rest if I could not offer a sincere prayed for the temporal and everlasting welfare of all men, whatever meannesses and outrage they have inflicted upon me. If you want to get your heart right, strike a match and burn up all yourold grudges and blow the ashes away. “If you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses.” An old Christian black woman was going along the streets of New York with a basket of apples that she had for sale. A rough sailor ran against her and upset the basket and stood back expecting to hear her scold frightfully, but she stooped down and picked up the apples and said, “God forgive you, my son, as I do.” The sailor saw the meanness of what he had done, and felt in his pocket for his money, and insisted that she should take it- all. Though she was black, he called her mother and said: “Forgiveme,Another. I will never do anything so mean jfgnin.” Ah, there is a power in a forgiving spirit to overcome all hardness. There is uo way of conquering men like that of bestowing upon them your pardon whether

they wfll accept It or not Again, a right heart is an expectant heart. It is a poor business to be building castles in the air. Efjoy what you have now. Don’t spoil your comfort In the small house because you expect a larger one. Don't fret about your income w’hen it is $3 or $4 per day because you expect to have after awhile £lO oer day, or SIO,O<X) a year because you expect it to be $20,000 a year. But about heavenly things the more think the better. Those castles are not in the air, but on the hills, and we have a deed of them in our possession. 1 like to see a man all full Of heaven. He talks heaven. He sings heaven. He prays heaven. He dreams heaven. Some of us in our sleep have had the good place open to ns, -We saw the pinnacles iu the sky. We heard the click of the hoofs of the white horses on which the victors rode and the clapping of the cymbals of eternal triumph. And, while in our sleep we were glad that all our sorrows were over and burdens done with, the throne of God grew whiter and whiter and whiter till we opened our eyes and saw that it was only the sun oTearthly morning sh r ning on our piNow. To have a right heart yon need to be filled with this expectancy. It would make your privations and annoyances more bearable. In the midst of the city of Paris stands a statue of the good but broken hearted Josephine. I never imagined that marble could be smitten into such tenderness. It seems not lifeless. If the spirit of Josephine be disentabernaclbd, the soul of the empress has taken possession of this figure. I am not yet satisfi ;d that it is stone. The puff of the dress ok the arm seems to need but the pressure <K the finger to indent it. The figures at the bottom of the robe, the rulfle at the neck, the fur lining on the dress, the embroidery of the satin, the cluster of lily and leaf and rose in her hand, the poise of her body ns she seems to come sailing out of the sky, her face calm, humble, beautiful but yet sad—attest the genius of the-sculptor/and the beauty of -the heroine he celebrates. Looking up through the riftr of the coronet that encircles her brow, I could see the sky beyond, the great heavens where all woman’s wrongs shall be righted, and the story of endurance and resignation shall be told to all ages. The rose and the lily in the hand of Josephine will never drop their petals. Believe not the recent slanders upon her memory. The children of God, whether they suffer on earth in palaces or in hovels, shall come to that gkmons rest. O bearen, sweet heareir, at thy gate we set down all our burdens and grigfs. plajre vvill be ljull. Here there jOyewacant chairs at the hearth and at the table, but there are no vacant chairs iu heaven—the crowns all qorn, the thrones all mounted. Some talk of heaven as though it were a vety handsome church, where a few favored spirits would come in and sit down on finely cushioned seats, all by themselves and sing psalms to all eternity. No, no. “I saw a great multitude that no man could number standing before the throne. He that talked with me had a golden" reed to measure the city, And it was 12,000 furlongs”—that is, 1,500 miles —in circumference. Ah, heaven is not a little colony at one corner of God’s dominion, where a man’s entrance depends upon what kind of clothes he has on his back and how much money he has in his purse, but a vast empire. God

grant that the light of that blessed world may 3hine upon us in our last moment. The first time I crossed the Atlantic the roughest time we had was at the month of Liverpool harbor. We arrived at nightfall and were obliged to lie there tjll the morning waiting for the rising of the tide before we could go up to the city. How. the vessel pitched and writhed in tlie water! So sometimes the last illness of the Christian is a struggle. He is almost through the voyage. The waves of temptation toss his soul, but he waits for the morning. At last the light dawns, and the tides of, joy rise in his soul and he sails up and casts anchor within the vale. Is thy heart right? What question can compare with this in importance? It is a business question. Do you not realize that you will soon have to go out of that store; that you will soofl have to resign that partnership; that soon among all the millions of dollars’ worth of goods that are sold you will not have the handling of a yard of cloth, or a pound of sugar, or a pennyworth of anything; that soon, if a conflagration should start at Central park and sweep everything to the Battery, it would not disturb you; that soon, if every cashier should abscond and every insurance company should fail, it would not affect yon? What are the questions that stop this side the grave compared with the questions that reach beyond it? Are you making losses that are to be everlasting? Are you making purchases for eternlr - ; Are you jobbing for time when yon might be wholesaling for eternity? What question of the store is so broad at the base, and so altitudinous, and so overwhelming as the question, “Is they heart right?” Or is it a domestic question? Is it something about father or mother or companion or son or daughter that you think is comparable with this question in importance? Do you not realize that by universal and inexorable law all these relations will be broken up? Your father will be gone, your mother will be gone, your companion will be gone, your ch>)d will be gone, you will be gone, and then this supernal question will begin to harvest its chief gains or deplore its worst losses, roll up into its mightiest magnitude or sweep its vast circles. What difference now does it make to Napoleon 111. whether he triumphed or surrendered at Sedan? Whether he lived at the Tuileries Or at Chiselhurst? Whether he was emperor or exile? him out in his coffin in the dress of a field marshal. Did that give him any better chance for the next world than if he had been laid out in a plain shroud? p And soon to us what will be the difference whether in this world we rode or walked, were bowed to or maltreated, were applauded or hissed at, were welcomed in or kicked out, while laying hold of very moment of the great future and burning in all the splendor or grief and overarching and undcrgoiqg all time and all eternity is the plain, simple, practical, thrilling, agonizing, overwhelming question, “Is thy heart right?” Have you within yon a repenting heart, an expectant heart? If so, I must write upon your soul what Goorge Whitefield wrote upon the window pane with his diamond ring. He tarried in an elegant house over night, but found that there was no God recognized in that house. Before he left his room in the morning with his ring he wrote upon the window pane, “One thing thou lackest.” After the guest was gone the housewife came and looked at the window, and saw the in* script ion. and called her husband and her children, and God, through that ministry of the.window glass, brought them all te Jesus. Though you may to-day be surrounded by comforts and luxuries and feel that ytm have need of nothing, If you are not the children of God, with the signet ring of Christ’s love, let me inscribe upon your -souls, “One thing thou tonlrnt" -