The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1890-07-30

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
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 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
us.
Oh, will you not know your mothers voice
there? She who always called you by your
first name long after Others had given you
the formal "Mister?' You were never any
thing but James, or 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 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. 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
but know it.
Now bring you this glorious consolation
Of future recognition. II you could get this
theory into your heart it would lift great
many shadows that are stretching across it.
When I was lad l used to 90 out to the
railroad track and put my ear down on the
track, and could hear the express train
rumbling miles away and coming on; and to-
day, my friends, if we only had faith enough
- -
our dead and listen and hear in the distancs
the rumbling on Of the chariots Of resurrec
tion victory. o heaven, sweet heaven! You
do not spell heaven as you used to spell it
You used to spell it th-e-a-v-e-n-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
it as never before in songs and hallelujahs.
Oh, ye 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 last. On the shining shore
you will talk it all over. The heartaches,
th9 loneliness, the sleepless nights, the weep
ing 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 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 midnight-alone. Talking it all
over and then hand in hand walking up and
down in the light. No sorrow, no tears, no
death. o, heaven, beautiful heaven! 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 Iwould to-
day bring cage of Christian consultations to
the grave Of your loved ones, and would
open the door and let them fill oil the air
with the music of their voices.
Oh, how they bound in, these spirits before
the throne! Some shout with gadness some
break forth into uncomfortable weeping for
ioy. some stand speechleSs in their shock of
delight. They sing, they quiver with exces-
sive gladness. they gaze on the temples, on
the palaces, on the waters, on each other.
They weave their joy into garlands, they
spring it into triumphal arches. they strike
it on timbrels, and then all the loved ones
gather in a 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 Cod
the circle ever widening-hand to hand, joy
to JOY jubiles to jubilee, victory to victory,
until tho day break and the shadows flee
away. Turn thou, my beloved, and be like
a roe or young hart upon the mountains Of
Bether."
Oh, how different it is on earth from the
way it is in heaven when Christian dies!
We say, "Close his eyes," In heaven they
say, "Give him palm" On earth we say,
''Let him down in the ground" In hea ven
thev say "Raise him on q throne" On
earth it is, Farewell. farewell" In heaven
it is, "Welcome, welcome" And see q
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 Christ,
''this is not death" And he wades still
deeper down into the waters until the food
comes to the knee, an1 he says LORD
Jesus, tell inc, tell me IS this
deathY And Christ says, mo, no; this is
not DEATH" And he wades still farther
down until the wave comes to the girdle,
and the soul says Lord Jesus is this
death| "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 deathr' 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 surging to its
feet, then Christ said, This, oh transported