The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1892-04-29

glad 1 am that father and mother are
not here, or chow glad am that the
children are not alive to see this hor-
rori" And ought not we who are down
here amid the upturnings of this life be
glad that none of the troubles which
submerge us can ever alright our
friends assembled? Before this l war
rant our departed ones have been intro
duced 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 several
hours. Let me make you acquainted
with this group of three heroes-John
Huss, Philip Melancthon and Martin
Luther. Aha. here is Fenelon! Here
is Archbishop Leightonl Here are Lat
inner and Ridley! Here is Matthew
Simpson! Here is poets row-James
Montgomery and Anna Barbauld and
Horatius Bonar and Phoebe Palmer and
Lowell Mason" Were your departed
ones fond of music? What oratoriOs
led on by Handel and Haydn. Were
they fond of pictures? What Raphaels
pointing out skies with all eolors
wrought into chariot wheels, wings
of seraphim and coronations.
Were they fond of poetry? What
eternal rythms led on by John
Milton. Shall we pity our glorified
kindred? No, they had better pity Us.
We, the shipwrecked, and on a raft in
the hurricane, looking up at them sail
ing on over calm seas, under skies that
never frowned with tempests, we hop
pied by chains, they lifted by wings.
''Surely the bitterness of death 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 60
ing to end when our heart ceased to
pulsate and our lungs to breathe l
would want TO take ten million years of
life here for the first instalment. But,
my Christian friends, we cannot afford
always to stay down in the cellar Of
our Fathers house. We cannot be al
ways 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 cannot
afford always to stand out here in the
vhstibule 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 qual1es with the bounding
feet of those who have entered upon
eternal play. Ushers of Heaven! Open
the gates. Swing them clear back on
their pearly hinges! Let the celestial
music rain on us its cadences. Let the
hanging gardens of the king breathe on
us their CromaticS. Let our redeemed
ones just look out and give us one glance
of their glorified faces. Yes. there they
are now. l see them. But l cannot
stand the vision. Close the gates, 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 fra
GRANGE that human noStril was never
made to breathe.
All these things are suggested as we
stand this Easter morn amid the broken
rocks of the Saviour's tomb. Indeed I
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
/ went down the steps of the supposed
Of CT
Mount Calvary / 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" / could not breathe
easily for overmastering emotion as
walked down the four crumbling steps
till we came abreast of the niche in
which l think Christ was buried. l
measured the sepulcher and found it
fourteen and 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 1 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 the sepulcher was de-
molished forever, and no trowel of
earthly masonry can ever rebuild it.
And the rupture of those rocks, and the
snap of that government seal, and the
crash of those walls of limestone, and the
stepof the lacerated but triumphant foot
of the risen Jesus we to-day celebrate
with acclaim of worshiping thousands,
while with all the nations of Christen-
dom 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"
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 covenant make
you perfect in every good word and
work" Hallelujah, Amen!