The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1893-09-08

viii sit beside you by day, and whisper
over your pillow night after night.
want to assure you that you are not
left alone, and that your weeping is
heard in Heaven. You will wander
among the hills and say: "Up this
hill, last year, our boy climbed with
great glee. and waved his cap from the
top;" or This is the place where our
little girl put flowers in her hair, and
looked up in her mothers face" until
every drop of blood in your heart
tingled with g1adness, and you thanked
God with thrill of rapture; and you
look around as much as to say: "Who
dashed out that light? Who filed
froze up these fountains of
the hearth" Some of you have
lost your parents within the last twelve
months. Their prayers for you are
ended. You take up their picture and
try to call back the kindness that once
looked out from those old, wrinkled
faces, and spoke in such tremulous
voice; and you say it is good picture,
but all the while you feel that, after
| all, it does not do Justice; and you
would give almost anything-you
would cross the sea, you would
walk the earth over-to hear just one
word from those lips that few months
| ago used to call you by your first
name, though so long you yourself
have been a parent. Now, you have
done your best with your grief. You
smile when you do not feel like it. But
though you may deceive the world,
God knows. He looks down upon the
empty cradle, upon the desolated
nursery, upon the stricken home, and
upon the broken heart, and says: This
is the way / thresh the wheat, this is
the way scour my jewels! Cast thy
burden upon my arm and 1 will sus-
tain you. All these tears have gath
cred into my bottle!''
But what is the use of having SO
many tears in Gods lachrymatory? In
that great casket or vase, why does
God preserve all your troubles?
Through all the ages of eternity,
what use of great collection of tears?
l do not know that they will be kept
there forever. do not know but that
in some distant age of Heaven an angel
find it as empty of tears as the Zachary
malsof earthenware dug up from the an
Gent city? Where have the tears gone to?
What sprite of hell hath been invading
Gods palace, and hath robbed the
lachrymatories? None. These are
sanctified sorrows, and those tears were
changed into pearls that are now set
in the crowns and robes of the ran
somed. l walk up to examine this
heavenly coronet, cleaning brighter
than the sun, and cry: From what
river depths of Heaven were those gems
gathered?" and a thousand voices
reply: ''These are TRANSMITTED
tears from Gods BOTTLE" I see
scepters of light stretched down
from tho throne of those who
on earth were trod on of men, and in
every scepter-point, and inlaid in every
ivory stair of golden throne 1 behold
an indescribable richness and luster,
and cry, From whence this streaming
light-these flashing pearls?" and the
voice of the elders beneath the throne,
and of the martyrs under the altar,
and of the hundred and forty and four
thousand radiant on the CLASSY sea ex-
.
bottle"
Let the ages of Heaven roll on-the
story of earth's pomp and pride long
ago ended; the Koh-i-noor diamonds
that make kings proud, the precious
stones that adorned Persian tiara and
famed in the robes of Babylonian pro.
cessions, forgotten; the Golconda mines
charred in the last conf1agration; brt
firm as the everlasting hills, and pure
as the light that streams from the
throne, and bright as the river that
flows from the eternal rock, shall
CLEAN, shall sparkle, shall flame for
ever, these transmitted tears of Gods
bottle.
Meanwhile, let the empty lachryma-
tory of Heaven stand forever. Let no
hand touch it. Let no wing strike it.
Let no collision crack it. Purer than
beryl or chrysoprasus. Let it stand
on the step of Jehovah's throne and
under the arch of the unfading rain
bow. Passing down the corridors of
the palace, the redeemed of earth shall
glance at it, and think of all the earth
1y troubles from which they were de-
hvered, and say, each to each: '"Thatis
what we heard of on earth" "That is
what the Psalmist spoke Of" "There
once were put our tears" THAT is
Gods bottle And while standing
there inspecting this richest inlaid vase
of Heaven, the towers of the palace
dome strike up this silvery chime: God
hath wiped away all tears from all
faces. Wherefore comfort one another
with these words"
Early American SculptOrs.