The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1891-07-17

Great clouds OF trouble sometimes hOFeT
over us They are black, and they ara
gorged. and they are thunderous- They
are more portentous than Salvador or
Claude ever painted-clouds of poverty,
| or persecution, or bereavement. They
hover over us, and they get darker and
blackcr. and after awhile a tear starts,
and we think by an extra pressure Of
the eyelid TO stop it. Others follow, and
| after awhile there is a shower of tear
full emotion. Yea, there is a rain Of
tears. Hath that rain a father?''
80" You say, "a tear is nothing but a
drop of limpid fluid secreted by the
lachrymal glands only a sign Of
weak eyes, Great mistake. 1t is one
of the Lords richest benedictions to
the world. There are people in Black
wells Island asylum, and at Utica, and
| at the asylums of this land, who were
demented by the fact that they could
not cry at the right time. Said a
maniac i'm one of our public institutions,
under a Gospel sermon that started the
tears: do you see that tear? That
is the first 1 have wept for
twelve years. / think it viii
help my brain" There are a great
many in the grave who could not stand
any longer under the glacier of trouble.
If that glacier had only melted into
weeping they could have endured it.
There have been times in your life when
you would have given the world, If you
had possessed it, for one tear. You could
shrek, you could blaspheme, but you
could not cry. Have you never seen a
man holding the hand of d wife, who
had been all the world to him? The tenn
pies livid with excitement. the eye dry
and frantic, no moisture on the upper
or lower lid. You saw there were
bolts of anger in the cloud, but no rain.
To your Christian comfort he said:
Don't talk to me about God; there is
no God; or if there is / hate Him; don't
talk to me about God; would He have
left me and these motherless children?"
But a few hours Or days after, coming
across some lead pencil that she owned
in life, or some letters which she
wrote when he was away from
home, with an outcry that appals,
there bursts the fountain of tears, and
as the sunlight of Gods consolation
strikes hat fountain of tears, you
find out that it is a tender-hearted, mer-
ciful, pitiful, and all-compassionate God
who was the father of that rain. "Oh,"
you say. lit is absurd to think God is
going to watch over tears" No, my
friends. There are three or four kinds
of them that God counts. bottles, and
eternizes. First, there are all parental
tears, and there are more OF these
than of any other kind, because
the most of the race die in infancy,
and that keeps parents mourning all
around the world. They never get oEerit.
They may live to shout and sing after
ward, but there is always a corridor in
the soul that is silent, though it once
~resounded. My parents never
toned the death of a child who died
fifty years before, without a tremor in
the voice and a sigh, oh! how deep
fetched. 1t was better she should die,
1t was a mercv she should die. She
would have been a lifelong invalid.
But you can not argue away a parents
grief. How often do you hear the
moan: 'Oh! my child, my child!'
Then there are the flial tears. Little
children soon get over the loss of
parents. They are easily diverted with
a new toy. But where is the man that
has come to thirty, or forty, or fifty
years of age, who can think of the old
people without having the fountains Of
HE soul stirred up? You may nave had
to take care of her n good many years,
but You never can forget how she used
to take care of you. There have been
many sea captains converted in our
church, and the popularity of
them was hat they were near
ly all prayed ashore by their
mothers, though the mothers went
into the dust soon after they went to
sea. Have you never heard an old man
in delirium of some sickness call for his
mother? The fact is we get SO used to
calling for her the first ten years of our
life that we never get over it, and when
she goes away from us it makes deep
sorrow. You sometimes, perhaps. in
days of trouble and darkness, when the
world would say; "You ought t be
able to take care of yourself'-you
wake up from your dreams finding
yourself saying: so, motherl motherI''
Have these tears no Divine origin?
Why, take all the warm heart that ever
beat in all lands, and in all ages, and
put them together, and their united
throb would be weak compared with
the throb of Gods eternal sympathy.
Yes, God also is Father of all that rain
of repentance. Did you ever see a rain
of repentance? Do you know what it
is that makes a man repent? Isee peo-
pie going around trying to repent.
They can not repent. Do you know, no
man can repent until God helps him re-
pent? How do i know9 By this pass
age: 'Him hath God exalted to be a
prince and a Saviour to give repent
ance." OF it is a tremendous
hour when one wakes up and says: 81
am a bad man. ! have not sinned
against the sins of the land, but have
wasted my life; God asked me for my
services, and 1 haven't given Him those
services. o! my sins, God forgive me. I"
The king of Carthage was dethroned,
his people rebelled against him. He
was driven into Punishment. His wife
and children were outrageously abused.
Years went by, and the king of Carthage
made many friends. He gathered up a
great army. He marched again toward
Carthage. Reaching he gates OF
Carthage. the best men of the place
came out bare-footed and b~are-headed,
and with ropes around their necks, cry
ing for mercy. They said: "We abused
you and we abused your family, but we
cry for mercy" The king of Carthage
looked down upon the people from his
chariot and said: Il came to bless,
didn'tcome to destroy. Youdrove me out,