The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-07-14


Ons Of tenn" Aud another voice says,
You forget that poor man to whom you
gave a loaf of bread, and told Of
the heavenly bread. | was that man"
And another says, you forget that sick
one to whom you gave medicine for the
body and the soul. / was that one.n And
thea Christ, from a throne overlapping all
the rest, will say, "Inasmuch as ye did it TO
one of the least Of these, you did it to me.
And then the seraphs will take their harps
from the side of the throne. and cry.
what song shall it be-" And Christ, bend
ing over the harpers, shall say, 1T shall be
the Harvest Homel"
One more reason why | am disposed to
accept this doctrine of the future recogn-
ton is that so many in their last hour on
earth have confirmed this theory. | speak
not of persons who have been delirious in
their last moment and knew not what they
were about, but OF persons who died In
calmness and placidity, and who were not
naturally superstitious Often the glories
of heaven have struck the dying pillow.
and the departing man has said he saw and
heard those who had gone away from HIM.
How often il is in the dying moments
parents see their departed children
and children see their departed parents
| came down to the tanks of the
Mohawk river. IL was evening, and
wanted TO 90 over the river. and so | waved
nv hat and shouted, and after awhile saw
some one waving on the opposite bank, and
| heard him shout, and the boat came
across, and got in and was transported.
And so l suppose it will be in the evening
of our life. We will come down TO the
river of death and give a signal to our
friends on the other shore, and they will
give a signal back to us, and the boat
comes, and our departed kindred are the
oarsmen, the fires of the setting day tinge-
ing the tops of the paddles.
Oh have you never sat by such death
bedl In that hour you hear the departing
soul cry, "Hark lookw You hearkened
and you looked. A little child pining away
because of the death of its mother, getting
weaker and weaker every day, was taken
into the room where hung the picture of her
mother. She seemed to enjoy looking lit,
and then she was taken away, and after
awhile died In the last moment that wan
and wasted little one lifted her hands, while
her face lighted up with the glory
of the next world and cried out,
''Motherr You tell me she did not see her
motherl She did. So in my first settle
ment at Belleville plain man said to me;
"What do you think / heard last nightl |
was in the room where one of my neighbors
was dying. He was a good man, and he
said he heard the angels of God singing be-
fore the throne | haven't much poetry
too" Said l, Il have no doubt of it,"
Why, We are to be taken up to heaven at
last by ministering spirits. Who are they
20 be! Souls that went up from Madras,
or Antioch, or Jerusalem! O, no; our glo-
rified kindred are going to troop around us.
Heaven is not a stately, formal place, as
/ sometimes hear it described, very frigid-
ity OF splendor. where people stand on cold
formalities and go around about with
baauy nf GOLD THAR haoHS No
that is not my idea of heaven. Ny idea of
heaven Is more like this: Y ou are seated in
the eveningtide by the fireplace, your whole
family there, or nearly all Of them there
While you are seated talking and enjoying
the evening hour there is knock at the
door and the door opens, and there comes
in brother that has been long absent. He
has been absent for years; You have not
seen him. and no sooner do you make up
your mind tibet it is certainly he than you
leap up, and the question is who
shall give him the first embrace. That
is my idea OF heaven-a great home circle
where they are waiting for us. o, will you
not know your mothers voice therel she
who always called you by your first name
hong after others had given you the formal
"misterp You were never anything but
James, or John, or George, or Thomas, or
Mary, or Florence TO her. Will you not
know your child's voicel She of the bright
eve and the ruddy cheek, and the quiet
step. who came In from play and flung her
self into your lap, a very shower of mirth
and beauty Why, the picture is craven in
your soul. 1t cannot wear out. II that
little one should stand on the other side of
some heavenly hill and call to you, you
would hear her voice above the burst Of
heavens great orchestra. Know it, You
could not help but know it.
Now l bring you this glorious consola
ton of future recognition. If you could
get this theory into your heart it would lift
great many shadows that are stretching
across it. When | was a lad | used to go
out to the railroad track and put my ear
ear down on the track and | could hear the
express train rumblng miles away, and
coming on; and to-day, my friends, If we
only had faith enough we could put our ear
down to the grave of our dead and listen
and hear in the distance the rumbling on of
the chariots of resurrection victory. o
heavenl Sweet heaven! You do net spell
heaven as you used to spell it. You used
to spell it heaven. heaven. But now
when you want to spell that word you place
side by side the faces of the loved ones who
are gone, and in that irradiation of light and
love, and beauty and joy, you spell 1t out as
never before, in songs and hallelujahs.
o, We whose hearts are down under the
sod of the cemetery. cheer up at the thought
Of this reunion! o. how much you will
have to tell them when once you meet
theml How much you have been through
since you saw them last! On the shining
shore you will talk it all over. The heart
aches. The loneliness. The sleepless nights.
The weeping until you had no more power
to weep, because the heart was withered
and dried up. Story Of vacant chair, and
empty cradle, and little shoe only
half worn out, never to be worn
again, just the shape of the foot that
once pressed it. And dreams when you
thought that the departed had come back
again, and the room seemed bright with
their faces, and you started up to greet
them, and in the effort the dream broke
and you found yourself standing amid
room in the midnig Talking it
| all over, and then, maud in hand walking
| up and down in the light No sorrow, no
tears, no death. o, heaven! beautiful
heavenl Heaven where our friends are
Heaven where we expect to be.
In the east they take cage of birds and
bring it to the tomb of the dead, and then
they open the door of the cage, and the
birds flying out. sing. And | would to-day
bring a cage of christian consultations to the
grave Of your loved ones, and | would open
the door and let them fill all the air with
the music of their voices. Oh, how they
hound in these spirits before the thronel
| Some shout with gladness Some break
| forth into uncomfortable weeping for Joy
Some stand speechless in their shock of de
light They sing. They culver with ex-
| ceSSive gladneSS Thew gaze on tht