Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1890-07-25


little for Christ and feeling borne down with
unworthiness and it says to itself, Il have
no right 20 be here" A voice from the
throne says: ''Oh, you forget that Sunday
school class you invited 10 Christ. | was one
OF them" Ard another voice says: You
forget that poor man 70 whom you gave
loaf of bread and told OF the heavenly bread
| was that man" And another says: You
forget that sick one 20 whom you gave medi-
cine for the body and the soul. was that
one" And then Christ from throne over
topping all the rest. will say ''Inasmuch
We did it to one of the least OF these, you did
it to Ne" And then the seraphs will take
their harps from the side Of the throne and
cry: What song shall it be- And Christ,
bending over the harpers, shall say: 1t
shall be the Harvest Home"
One more reason why ] am disposed 10 &C
cept this doctrine Of future recognition 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 super
stitiCus. 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 it is
in the dying moments parents see their de-
parted children and children see their de-
parted parents. | came down to the banks
of the Mohawk River. 1t was evening and
wanted to go over the river and so | waved
my hat and shouted, and after a while | 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 /
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 dav
tingeing the tops of the paddles.
Oh, have you never sat by such a death
bed? In that hour you hear the departing
soul cry, ''Hark! Look" 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 at it,
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 ''Mothern You tell
me she did not see her mother She did. SO
in my first settlement at Bellevile a plain
man said to me: ''What do you think [
heard last night? | YVES 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 before the throne. [ haven't
much poetry about me, but | listened and |
heard them, too" Said |, 4 have no doubt
of it." Why, we are to be taken up to
heaven at last by ministering spirits. Who
are they to be? Souls that went up from
Madras, or Antioch, or Jerusalem? Oh, no;
our glorit1ed kindred are going to troop
around them.
Heaven isnot stately, formal place as
sometimes hear it described, a very frigidity
Of splendor, where people stand Oh cold for
maIit1es and go around about with heavy
crowns Of gold on their heads. No, that is
not my idea Of heaven. Ny idea of heaven
Is more like this: You 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 a knock at the door
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
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 "Misterf' You were never any
thing but James or John. or George or
Thomas, or Mary, or Florence to her. VIII
you not know your childs voice? She of the
bright eye and tho 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
orchestra. Know it? You could not help
but know it.
Now [ bring you this glorious consolation
OF future recognition If you could get this
theory into your heart it would lift a great
many shadows that are stretching across it.
When L was a lad | used to go out to the
railroad track and put my ear down on the
track, and [ could hear the express train
rumbllng 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 rumbllng on Of the chariOts Of resurrec-
ton victory. O heaven, sweet heaven. You
do not spell heaven as you used to spell it,
Y GU used to spell it h-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
1t as never before in songs and hallelujahs
Oh, ye whose hearts are down under the sod
or 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,
the 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 tEem, and in the effort the dream
Droke and you found yourself standing amid
in "a Hnip To