Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1892-04-18


the childrcA are not alive to see this
bcrTori" And ought not we who are
down here einid The upturnings of this
life be glsi Eat none of the troubles
which sub;ncs,,o us can ever alright our
friends ascel7ad? Before this l warrant
our departed ones have been introduced
to all the celebrities Of heaven.
Some one has said to them: "Let me
introduce you to Joshua, the man who
by prayer stopped two worlds for sew
eral hours. Let me make you acquainted
with this group of three heroes-JohD
Huss, Philip Melancthon and Martin
Luther. Ahai here is Fenelonl Here is
Archbishop Leightonl Here are Lati-
mer and Ridley Here is Matthew Simp-
sonl Here is poets row-James Mont
gomery and Anna Barbauld and Hora-
thus Bonar and Phoebe Palmer and
Lowell Mason"
Were your departed ones fond Of mu-
sic? What oratorios led ON by Handel
and Haydn. Were they fond of picturesf
What Raphaels pointing out skies with
all colors wrought into chariot wheels,
wings of seraphim and coronations.
Were they fond Of poetry What eter-
nal rhyth led on by John Milton. Shall
we pity our glorifed kindred? No, they
had better pity us. We, the ship
wrecked, and on raft in the hurricane,
looking Up at them sailing on over calm
seas, under skies that never frowned
with tempests, we hoppled with chains
they lifted by wings. Surely the bit
terness of drath is past"
Further, if what have been saying is
true, we should trust the Lord and be
thrilled with The fact that our own day
of escape cometh. If our lives were 20.
ing to end when our heart ceased to pull.
safe and our lungs to breathe, would
want to take ten million years of life
here for the first installment. But, my
Christian friends, we cannot afford al.
ways to stay down in the cellar of our
Fathers house. We cannot always be
postponing the best things. We cannot
always be tuning our violins for the
celestial orchestra. We must get our
wings out. We must mount. We can
not afford always to stand out here in
the vestibule of the house of many man
sions, while the windows are illuminated
with the levee angelic, and we can hear
the laughter of those forever free, and
the ground quakes with the bounding
feet of those who have entered uponeter-
nal play.
OPEN THE GATES OF HEAVEN.
Ushers of heavenl Open the gates!
Swing them clear back on their pearly
hinges! Let the celestial muric rain on
us in its cadencesl Let the hanging gar
dens of the king breathe on us their aro-
maticsl Let our redeemed ones just look
out and give US one glance of their glo-
rified facesi Yes, there they are now!
l see them. But / cannot stand the
vision. Close the gate, or our eyes will
be quenched with the overpowering
brightness. Hold back the song, or our
ears will never again care for earthly
anthem. Withdraw the perfume, or we
shall swoon in the fragrance that human
nostril was never made to breathe.
All these thoughts are suggested as we
stand this Easter morn amid the broken
rocks of the Saviour's tomb. Indeed,
know that tomb has not been rebuilt,
for stood in December of 1889 amid
the ruins of that the most famous sepul
cher of all time. There are thousands
of tombs in our Greenwood and Laurel
Hill and Mount Auburn with more pol
ished stone and more elaborate masonry
and more foliaged surroundings, but as
l went down the steps of the supposed
tomb of Christ on my return from Mount
Calvary l said to myself: This is the
tomb of all tombs. Around this stand
more stupendous incidents than around
any grave of all the world since death
entered it.
THE SEPULCHER OF CHRIST.
l could not breathe easily for over
mastering emotion as l walked down
the four crumbling steps till we came
abreast of the niche i'll which | think
Christ was buried. l measured the
sepulcher and found it fourteen and a
half feet long, eight feet high, nine feet
wide. 1t is a family tomb and seems TO
have been built to hold five bodies But
l rejoice to say that the tomb was empty
and the door of the rock was gone and
the sunlight streamed in. The day that
Christ rose and came forth tie sepulcher
was demolished forever and no trowel of
earthly masonry can ever rebuild it.
And the rupturesof those rocks, and the
snap of that governmental seal, and the
crash of those walls of limestone, and
the step of the lacerarcd but triumphant
foot of the risen Jesus we today cele-
brate with acclaim OF worshipinS thou
sands, while with all the nations of
Christendom and all the shining hosts of
heaven we chant, "Now is Christ risen
from the dead and become the first
fruits of them that slept"
Oh, weep no more your comforts slain,
The Lord is risen, he lives again.
"And now may the God of peace, who
brought again from the dead our Lord
Jesus, that great shepherd of the sheep,
through the blood of the everlasting COW
enant make you perfect in every good
word and work" Hallelujah! Amenl
The Purltans and the MorInons.
President Eliot's eastern friends seem