Milford chronicle., 1893-09-01


slant privation; sewing women who can
not ply the needle quick enough to earn
them shelter and bread.
But whether reported or uncomplaining,
whether in seemingly comfortable parlor
or in damp cellar or in hot garret, Gods
angels Of mercy are ON the watch. This
moment those griefs are being collected.
Down on the back streets, in all the alleys,
amid shanties and log cabins, the work
goes on. Tears Of want-seething in sum
mer's heat or freezing in winters cold
they fall not unheeded They are jewels
for heavens caslet. They are pledges of
divine sympathy. They are tears for Gods
bottle.
PATERNAL ANXIETTES.
Again, the Lord preserves the remem-
brance of all paternal anXieties. YOu see
a man from the most infamous surround
iugs step out into the kingdom Of God.
He has heard no sermon. He has received
no startling providential warming. What
brought him to this new mind? This is
the secret: God looked over the bottle in
which he gathers the tears oi- his people,
and he saw a parental tear in that bottle
which has been for 50 years unanswered.
lie said, GO to, now, and let me answer
that tearl" and forthwith the wanderer is
brought home to God.
Oh, this work of training children for
Godl 1t is "a tremendous work Some peo
pie think it easy. They have never tried it.
A child is placed in the arms Of the young
parent It is a beautiful plaything. You
look into the laughing eyes. You examine
the dimples in the feet. You wonder at its
exquisite organism Beautiful playthingl
But on some nightfall, as you sit rocking
ff str
from the throne of God, saying "That child
is immortall The stars sh;1l die, but.that
IS an immortal! Suns shall grow old with
age and perish, but that is an immortalW
Now, l know with many OF you this is the
chief anxiety You earnestly wish your
children to grow up rightly, but you fndit
hard work to make them do rs you wish
You check their temper You correct their
waywardness. In the midnight your pillow
is wet with weeping. You have wrestled
with God in agony for the salvation of your
children You ask me if all that anxiety
has been Intellectual. | answer, No. God
understands your heart. He understands
how hard you have tried to make that
daughter do right, though she is so very
petulant and reckless, and what pains you
have bestowed in teaching that son to walk
in the path of uprightness, though he has
such strong proelivities for dissipation.
l speak a cheering word. God heard
every counsel you ever offered him. God
has known all the sleepless nights you have
ever passed. God has seen every sinking
of your distressed spirit. God remembers
your prayers. He keeps eternal record Of
your anxieties, and in his lachrymatory,
not such as stood in ancient tomb, but in
one that glows and glitters beside the
throne of God, he holds all those exhaust
ing tears.
The grass may be rank upon your graves
and the letters upon your tombstone de-
faced with the elements before the divine
response will come but he who hath de-
clared, Il Will be a God to thee and to thy
seed after thee" will not forget, and some
day in heaven while you are ranging the
fields Of light the gates Of pearl will swing
back, and garlandcd with glory that long
wayward one will rush into your out
stretched arms of welcome and triumph.
The hills may depart, and the earth may
burn, and the stars fall, and time perish,
but God will break his oath and trample
upon his promises-neverl neverl
OUR BEREAvEAfENTs.
Again, God keeps a perpetual remem-
brance of all bereavements These are the
red hearts of men to be crushed in the wine
press. Troubles at the store you may leave
at the store. MISREPRESENTATION and abuse
of the world you may leave on the street
where YOU found them. The lawsuit
that would swallow your honest accumu-
lations may be left in the courtroom. But
bereavements are home troubles, and there
is no escape from them. You viii see that
vacant chair Your eye viii catch at the
suggestive picture
You cannot fly the presence of such ills.
You 20 to Switzerland TO get clear of them;
but, more sure footed than the mule that
takes you up the Alps, your troubles climb
TO the tiptop and sit shivering on the gla-
ciers. You may cross the seas, but they
can outsail the swiftest steamer. You may
take caravan and put out across the Ara
bian desert, but they follow you like ST
moon. armed with suifocatiOn. You plunge
into the Mammoth I'VE, but they hang like
stalactites from the roof of the great cav
ern. They stand behind with skeleton fin
gers to push you ahead. They stand before
YOU to throw you back. They run upon
YOU like reckless horsemeR They charge
upon you with cleaning spear. They seem
to come haphazard, scattering shots from
the gun Of a careless sportsman. But not
so. 1t is good aim that sends them just
right, for God is the archer.
This summer many OF you will especially
feel your grief as you go toplaces where
once you were accompanied by those who
are gone now. Your troubles will follow
YOU to the seashore and will keep up with
the lightning express in which you sifed
away. Or tarrying at home they will sit
beside you by day and whisper over your
pillow night after night. 1 want to assure
YOU that you are not lett 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 nut flowers in her hair and looked up
in her mothers face" until every drop OF
blood in your heart tngled with gladness,
and YOU thanked God with a thrill of rap
ture. and YOU look around as much as to
say: who dashed out that lightG Who
filled this cup with gallS What blast froze
M these fountains of the hearty
Some of you have lost your parents with
in the last twelvemonth Their prayers for
YOU are ended You take up their pic
ture and try to call back the kindness that
once looked out from those old, wrinkled
faces and spoke in such a tremulous voice.
and YOU say it is a good picture But al
the while you feel that after all it does not
do Justice and you would give almost any
thing-you would cross the sea, you would
walk the earth over-to hear just one word
from those lips that a few months ago used
to call you by your first name, though so
long you yourself have been parent.
Now, you have done your best to hide
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 thrash the wheat; this is the way
scour my jewelsl Cast thy burden on my
arm, and l viii sustain you. All those
tears have gathered into my bottlei"
But what is the use of having SO many
fears in Gods lachrymatoryY In that great
casket or vase why does God preserve all
your troublesg Through all the ages os
eternity, what use Of greaecollection Of