St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-03-30

OF is going. Fold the hands that have done
so many kindnesses for you right over the
heart that has beat with love toward YOU
since before you were born. Let the pilgrim
rest. She is weary. Death in the summer
houseI Gather about us what We will Of
comfort and luxury, when
THE PALE MESSENGER
comes he does not stop to look at the archi-
lecture of the house before he comes in; nor,
entering, does he wait to examine the pictures
We have gathered on the walls, or, bending
over your pillow, he does not stop to see
whether there is color in the cheek or gentle
ness in the eye or intelligence in the brow.
But what of thata Must we stand forever
mourning among the graves of our deads
No! No! The people in Bengal bring cages
of birds to the graves of their dead, and then
they open the cages and the birds 60 singing
heavenward. So l would bring to the graves
of your dead tonight all bright thoughts and
congrat ulations and bid them sing of victory
and redemption. stamp on the bottom Of
the grave and it breaks through into the
light and the glory of heaven.
The ancients used to think that the straits
entering the Red sea were very dangerous
places, and they supposed that every ship
that went through those straits would
be destroyed, and they were in the
habit of putting on weeds of mourning for
those who had gone on that voyage as though
they were actually dead Do you know what
they called those straits? They called them
the s'Gate of Tears" I stand tonight at
the gate of tears through which many of
your loved ones have gone, and l want to tell
you that all are not shipwrecked that have
gone through those straits into the great
ocean stretching out beyond. The sound that
comes from that other shore on still nights
when we are
WRAPPED IN PRAYER
makes me think that the departed ones are
not dead We are the dead-we who toll; we
who weep; we who sin; we are the dead.
How my heart aches for human sorrow! This
sound of breaking hearts that hear all about
me! This last look of faces that never will
brighten again This last kiss of lips that
will never speak again This widowhood and
orphanage! Oh, when viii the day of sorrow
be gone!
After the sharpest winter the spring dis
mounts from the shoulder of southern gale
and puts its warm hand upon the earth and
in its palm there comes the grass, and there
come the flowers, and God reads over the
poetry of bird and book and bloom aud pro-
nounces it very good. What, my friend, if
every winter had not its spring and every
night its day and every gloom its glow and
every bitter now its sweet hereafter! If you
have been on the sea you know as the ship
passes in the night there is a phosphorescent
track left behind it, and as the waters roll
up they toss with
UNIMAGINABLE sPLENpoR.
Well, across this great ocean of human
trouble Jesus walks. On that in the phos-
phorescent track of his feet we might all fol-
low and be illumined!
There was gentleman in rail car who
saw in that same car three passengers of
very different circumstances. The first was
maniac. He was carefully guarded by his
attendants; his mind, like ship dismasted,
was beating against dark, desolate coast
from which no help could come.
The train stopped and the man was
taken into the asylum to waste away, per-
haps through years of gloom. The second
passenger was culprit The outraged law
had seized on him. AS the cars joted, the
chains ratified. On his face were crime, de-
pravity and despair. The train halted and
he was taken out to the penitentiarv to which
he had been condemned. Thereyw was the
third passenger under far different .circum-
stances. She was bride. Every hour was
as gay as marriage bell. Life glittered and
beckoned. Her companion was taking her to
his fathers house. The train halted. The
old man was there TO welcome her to her
new home and his white locks showed down
upon her as he sealed his word with a fathers
kiss.
Quickly we fly toward eternity. We will
soon be there. Some leave this life con-
demned culprits. They refused. pardon,
they carry their chains. Oh, may it be with
us that, leaving this feeting life for the next,
may find our Father ready to greet US to our
new home with Him forever. That will be
marriage banquet! Fathers welcome!
Fathers bosom! Fathers kissl Heaven!
UaavepT