The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1890-07-31

malities and 20 around about with heavy
crowns of gold on their heads. No, that is
not my idea of heaven. My idea Of heaven
is more like this: You are seated in the
evenngtide by the fireplace, your whole
family there, or nearly all Of them there.
While you are seated talking dnd enjoying
the evening hour there Is a knock at the door
and the door opens and thHres COMES In
Brother that has been long absent SHe has
been absent, for years you have not seen
him, and no sooner do you make up your
mind that 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
u.s.
Oh, will you not know your mothers voice
there9 She who always called you by your
first name long after others had given: you
the formal "Mistertr You were never any
thing but James, CT John, or George, or
Thomas, or Mary, or Florence to her. Will
YOU not know your child's voice? She of the
bright eye and tho ruddy cheek and the quiet
step, who came in from play and flung her
sell into your lap, very shower OF mirth
and beauty? Why, the picture Is craven zen Ia 2n
your soul 1t cannot wear out. If 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. - H..
Now bring you this glorious consolation
of future recognition. II you could get this
theory into your heart it would lift a great
many shadows that are stretching across IL.
When l was a lad l used to go out to the
railroad track and put my ear down on the
track, and I could hear the express train
rambling miles away and coming on; and 10 :
day, my friends, If we oplyhad faith enough
we could put our ear down to the grave OF
our dead and listen and hear IN tie distance
the rumbling on of the chariots OF reSurrec-
ton victory. o heaven, sweet heaven! fou
do not spell heaven as you used to spell It.
You used to spell it h-a-a-v-e-n--heaven. b. 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 t;lat irradiation OF
light and love and beauty. and JOY you spell
it as never before in songs and hallelu1ahs.
Oh, We whose hearts are down under the sod
of the cemetery, cheer up at the thought OF
this reunion. Oh, how much you will have
to tell them when once you meet them!
How much you have been through since
YOU saw them list. On the shining shore
YOU will talk it all over. The heartaches,
the loneliness, the sleepless nights, the weep
lug until you had no more power to weep
because the heart was withered and dried
up. Story Of vacant chair and empty era
die, and little shoe only half worn ont, 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 stan ling amid
room in the Neutrality-suspicious.. Tai King 1t oil
over, and then hand 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 -cageof
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 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 bound in, these spirits before
the throne!, Some shout with gladness, some
break forth into uncomfortable weeping for
Joy, some stand speechless in their shock of
delight. They sing, they quiyer with exces-
sive gladness, they gaze on tho temples, on
the palaces, on the waters, on each other.
They weave their joy into garlands, they
spring it into triumphal arches they strike
IL
gather in great circle around the throne Of
God-fathers, mothers brothers, sisters,
sons and daughters, lovers and friends, hand
to hand around about the throne Of God
the circle ever widening to hand, joy
to Joy, jubilee to jubilee, victory to victory,
until the day break and the shadows fee
away. Turn thou, my beloved, and bo like
roe or young hart upon the mountains or
Bether."
Oh, how different It is on earth from tho
way it is in heaven when Christian dies!
We say, "Closs his eyes," In heaven they
say, "Give him palm" On earth we say,
"Let him down in the ground" In heaven
thev soy, "Raise him on throne" On
earth it is, Farewell, farewell" In heaven
it is, "Welcome, welcome" And I see a
Christian soul coming down to the river Of
death, and he steps into the river and the
water comes to the ankle: He says, Lord
Jesus is this death" NO." says Carist
this is not DEATH" And he wades still
deeper down into the waters until the food
comes to the knee, and he says, Lord
Jesus tell me. tell me, is this
death% Aud Christ says, mo, no; this is
not DEATH" And lie wades still farther
down until the wave comes to the girdle
and the soul says, Lord Jesus, is this
deathF' "No," says Christ, "this is not"
And deeper in wades the soul till the billow
strikes the lip and the departing one cries.
''Lord Jesus, is this deathF' NO" says
Christ, "this is not.". But when Christ had
lifted that soul on throne of glory, and the
pomp and Joy Of heaven came surglng to its
feet. then Christ said, ''rhis, Oh transported
soul. this is death"