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A Christmas Sermon.

A Christmas Sermon.

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Published by GLENN DALE PEASE
BY T. H. STOCKTON.


"Glory to God"— Luke ii: 14.
BY T. H. STOCKTON.


"Glory to God"— Luke ii: 14.

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Published by: GLENN DALE PEASE on Sep 16, 2013
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A CHRISTMAS SERMO.BY T. H. STOCKTO."Glory to God"— Luke ii: 14.I divest myself of sensation. I withdraw myself even from the organs of intellect, sentiment and affec-tion. I abstract myself entirely from my physicalconstitution. I throw myself as a pure spirit intothe original -condition of immensity and eternity. Godalone is there. I commune with him — spirit withspirit. I learn that he desires to share his infinitefelicity with other consciousness than his own; andthat his perfections have composed a theory of creation.What that theory is, I am not informed; but am satis-fied that whenever it shall be disclosed it will glitterwith all the insignia of his own sovereign distinctions.Resuming my natural sympathies with the universe,I hold it in contemplation. I see its throne. God ison it. A heaven-full of cherubim and seraphim shineand sing around it. Beyond heaven, innumerable andmagnificent systems of suns, comets, planets, and satel-ites, map off the darkness with golden lines of silentglory, and fill up the vacuum with the pulse, andthought, and action of life everlasting. The genius of the Mind of minds has made itself creative ; the theoryof eternity is embodied in time ; and while God with-holds not a smile at the faithfulness of the mirror(222)A CHRISTMAS SERMO. 223before him, the mirror kindles with still more glowingbeauty, reflecting his smile and the bliss by which it
 
is brightened.I look again. The pavilion of God is closed, andhis throne is shaded within its folds. At the sight, themultitude of worshippers suspend their praise. Thereis silence in heaven. The fellowship of anxiety pre-vails. Soon they descry afar off a returning host. Asthey come nearer, they are seen to consist of two ordern.In one, every brow is crowned, and every crownadorned with a single star. In the other, a royalbreast-plate gleams on every purple robe. They arethe Morning Stars and the Sons of God. They wentout to witness the creation of a world. As it rose, theywelcomed it with ecstatic music. They saw it perfected ;saw it filled with living things ; saw its paradise plantedand burst into bloom; saw the manly majesty andwomanly beauty of its wedded rulers ; spent the firstSabbath with them, and exulted in its holiness andbliss. But now they come, sad that they went. Asthey alight upon their native landscape, and fold theirplumes among the myriads that gather around them,they tell the story of sin and death ! — The whole mul-titude turn toward the throne, and wonder no morethat the folds of the pavilion are drawn closelyaround it.Touched with a desire to behold the scene of guilt,and the parties involved in it, I leave the centre of creation and tend toward its circumference. I find anew system, and less magnificent than many I havepassed. I alight mpon its sun, and survey its comets,planets, and satellites. The planets are divided intothree classes. Those in the first and remotest class arecomparatively of great size, and beautifully adorned — 224 A CHRISTMAS SERMO.one with beltfe, another with rings; one with font
 
moons, another with six, another with seven. Thosein the second and middle class are very small. Thefour in the third and nearest class are larger than thelatter, but not one of them is even a tenth part as larg*as the largest of the first class. In this nearest class,I find the one I seek. It is the third from the sun,and moves along its orbit attended by a single moon.I descend upon it, and stand on a hill overlookingparadise. The garden of the Lord has not yet lost itsloveliness, though its sinful tenants, ashamed and sor-rowful, hide themselves in its deepest shadows.I commune with my own thoughts. What is sucha world as this, and who are these its occupants, thai,for any thing done here, 'the hallelujahs of heavenshould be hushed, and the throne of the universe bedarkened ? I am overwhelmed by the realization of ythe infinite holiness and sensibility of the divine law.There is no point in immensity where the finger of sincan touch it, without that touch being felt by him whoordained it. But why is it not avenged? Even as abubble on one of its own streams, so might such aworld dissolve and vanish. Why does it not? Ahme ! I feel the cause. Those timid criminals, tremblingin the shade, have been quickened into immortality bythe breath of God; and there is not an archangel inheaven whose spirit shall not fail with age as soon astheirs. or only so : but those same fugitives are therepresentatives of innumerable millions of immortalitieslike themselves — enough, if they should be finallytranslated to heaven, to make it necessary to employages in preparing mansions to receive them. Whatnow? Who shall terminate this awful suspense— andhow shall it close?A CHRISTMAS SERMO. 225I return whence I came. The cherubim and sera-

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