Sharp County record., 1891-07-23

a man in mid.life, consecrated to God,
Woodworking, useful in every respect,
who dies? Why does that old gossip,
gadding about the street, about every
body's business but her own, have such
| good health, while the Christian moth
er, with a flock of little ones about her
whom she is preparing for usefulness
and for Heaten-the mother who you
think could not be spared an hour from
that h6usehold-why does she lie down
AMI die with a cancer? Why does; that
man, selfish to the core, go on adding
fortune to fortune, consuming every
thing on himself, continue to pros
per, While that man, who has been
giving ten per cent. Of his income to
God and the church, goes into bank
ruptcy? Before we make stark fools OF
ourselves let us stop pressing this ever
lasting why" Let us worship where
we can not understand. Let a man
take that one question ''why?" and fol-
low it far enough, and push it, and he
will land in wretchedness and perdl-
ton. We want in our theology fewer
interrogation marks and more exelama.
ton points Heaven is the place for
explanation. Earth is the place for
trust If you can not understand so
minute thing as a rain-drop, how, can
you expect to understand Gods deal.
ings? Hath the rain father?" .t.
Again, my text makes me think that
the rain of tears is of Divine origin.
Great clouds of trouble sometimes heFeF
over us. They are black, and they are
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
blacker, and after awhile tear starts,
and we think by an extra pressure OF
the eyelid to stop it. Others follow, and
after awhile there is shower of tear
full emotion. Yea, there is rain Of
tears Hath that rain father?"
So" you say, "a tearis nothing but a
drop of limpid fluid secreted by the
lachrymal glands only 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 in one of our public institutions,
under a Gospel sermon that started the
tears: "Do you see that tear? That
is the first l have wept fol-
twelve years. l think it will
help my brain" There are 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 blasphene, but you
could not cry. Have you never seen d
man holding the hand of a dead wife, who
had been all the world to him? The ten.
pies llvid 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 i.
no God; or If there is hate Him. don,
talk to me about God; would He have
left me and these motherless chidreuY
But 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 that fountain of tears, yor
lind out that it is tender-hearted, mer
ciful pitiful, and all-compassionate Coo
who was the father of that rain. "Oh, "
you say, ''it is absurd to think God ID
going to watch over tears" No, my
friends, There are three or four kinds
of them that God counts, bottles, anC
eternizes First, there are all parenta,
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 al
around the world, They never get overit
They may live to shout and sing after
ward, but there is always corridor il
the soul that is silent, though it one,
resounded My parents never men
toned the death of q child who tSes
fifty years before, without tremor il
the voice and sigh, oh! how deep
fetched. 1t was better she should die
1t was a mercy she should die. She
would have been lifelong invalid
But you can not argue away parent,
grief How often do you hear the
moan; "oh my child, my child"
Tine king Of Carthage was dethroned
his people rebe!led against him. lie
was driven into banishment. His wife
and children were outrageously abused
Years went by, and the king OF Carthage
made many friends, He gathered up O
great army. He marched again toward
Carthage. Reaching the gates OF
Carthage, the best men OF the place
came out bare.footed and bare-headed
and with ropes around their neclss, cry,
| iup for ,nnrnv frl,y p,,,l, ,,ly. -