Democratic messenger., 1893-06-10

would bring to the graves of your dead
all bright thoughts and congratulations
and bid them think of victory and redemp-
tion. stamp on the bottom of the grave.
and it breaks through into the light and
the glory of heaven.
THE GATE OF TEARS.
The ancieniS used To think that the straits
entering the Red sea were very dangerous
places, and they supposed that every ship
that went through those straits would be
destroyed. and they were in the habit Of
putting on weeds of mourning for those
who had gone on that voyage. as though
they were actually dead. DO you know
what they called those straits? They call
them the Gate OF Tears oh, / stand to-
day at the gate of tears through which
many of your loved ones have gone and
want To tell you that all are not shipwrecked
that have gone through those straits into
the great ocean stretching out beyond.
The sound that comes from that other
shore on still nights when we are wrapped
in prayer makes me think that the depart
ed are not dead. We are the dead-we who
toll, we who weep, we who sin-we are the
dead. How my heart aches for human sor-
row, this sound of breaking hearts that
hear all about me. this last look of faces
that will never brighten again. this last
kiss of lips that never will speak again,
this widowhood and orphanage, Oh, when
will the day of sorrow he gone,
After the sharpest winter the spring dis
mounts from the shoulder of a southern
gale and puts its warm hand upon the
earth. and i'll its palm there comes the grass,
and there come the flowers, and God reads
over the poetry of bird and brook and bloom
and pronOunces it very good. What, my
friends, if every winter had not its spring,
and every night it's day, and every gloom
its glow, and every bitter now its sweet
hereafter! If you have been on the sea, you
know, as the ship passes in the night, there
is phosphorescent track left behind il,
and as the waters roll up they toss with
unimaginable splendor. Well, across this
great ocean of human trouble Jesus walks.
Oh. that in the phosphoresccnt track Of his
feet we mi -,ht all follow and he illumined!
There was gentleman in the rail car
who saw in that same car three passengers
of very different circumstances. The first
was maniac. He was carefully guarded
by his attendants. His mind. like ship
dismasted. WAS beating against a dark, dcs-
olate coast from which no help could come.
The train stopped, and the man was taken
out into the asylum tn waste away perhaps
through years Of gloom. The second pas
senger was u culprit. The outraged law
had seized on him. As the cars jolted the
chains ratified. On his face were crime, de-
pravity and despair. The train halted, and
he WAS taken out To the penitentiary to
which he had been condemned. There was
the third passenger under far different cir
cumstanccs. She was bride. Every hour
was gay us "A marriage bell. Life glittcrcd
and beckoned. Her companion was taking
her to his fathers house. The train halt
cd. The old man was there to welcome her
10 her new home, and his white locks
showed down upon her as hc sealed his word
with n fathers kiss.
Quickly we fly toward eternity. We will
soon he there. Some leave this life con
demncd culprits They refused a pardon;
they carry their chain. Oh. may it he with
us that leaving this neeting life for the next
we may find our Father ready to greet us
TO our new home with him forever. That
will be IA marriage banquet, Fathers well
come. Fathers bosom, Fathers kiss.
Heaven. Heaven.