Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1893-09-07

the Alps, your troubles climb to the
tip-top and sit shivering on the glaciers.
You may cross the seas, but t.ey an
not outsail the swiftest steamer. You
make take caravan, and put out across
the Arabian desert, but they tCiiow you
like a simeon, armed with ~suifocation.
You plunge into the Mammoth cave,
but they hang like s~talactites from the
roof of the great avern. They stand
behind with skeleton fingers to push
you ahead. They stand before you to
throw you back. They run upon you
like reckless horsemen. They charge
upon you with cleaning spear. They
seem to come haphazzard, scattering
shots from the gun of a careless sports
man. But not SO 1t is good aim that
sends them just right; fo- God Is the
archer. This summer many Of you will
especially feel your grief as you go 10
places where once you were accom-
panied by those who are gone now.
You troubles will follow you to the sea
shore, n will keep up with the light
ming express i'm which you speed away.
Or, tarrying at home, they will sit be-
side you by day, and whisper over your
pillow night after night. / want to
assure you that o are not left alone,
and that your weeping is heard in
heaven. You will wander among the
hills end 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 little girl put
flowers in her hair, and looked UP in
her mothers face" until every drop
of blood in your heart tingled with
nla1nnsS nn1 unrr fhanlyn1 God with n
thrill of rapture; and you look around
that light? Who filed the cup with
gall? What blast froze up these foun-
tains of the hearth" Some Of you have
lost your parents within the last twelve
months. Their prayers for you are end
ed. 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 a tremulous
voice; and you say it is a good picture,
but ali the while you feel that, after
all, it does not do justice; and you
would give almost an~ything-you would
cross the sea, you would walk the
earth over-to hear just n word from
those lips that a few months ago used
to call you by your first name, though
so long you yourself have been a par
ent. New, 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 I
scour my jewels! Cast thy burden upon
my arm and / will sustain you. All
those tears / have gathered into my bot
tle!''
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 a great collection Of tears? L
do not know that they will be kept
there forever. / do not know but IL
i'm some distant age Of heaven an angel
Of God may look into the bottle and
find it as empty of tears as the lachry-
mails of earthenware dug up from the
ancient 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 ransomed.
/ walk up to examine this heavenly
coronet, cleaning brighter than the sun
n cry, From what river depths of
heaven were those gems gathered:"
and a thousand voices reply, These
are transmitted tears from Gods bot
3ta - r CpnnfapS pf liJht StrnfrInl
down from the throne of those who
on earth were trOd on Of men, and i'll
every sceptre-point, and inlaid in every
ivory stair of g~oldenthrone j behold an
indescribablc richness and ulster, and
cry, From whence this streaming light
these flashing pearls?" and the voice
of the elders before the throne, and Of
the martyrs under the altar, and of the
hundred and forty and four thousand
rauiant on The CLASSY sea exclaim,
TRANSMITTED tears from Gods 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 confiagfation; but
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 fame for
ever, these transmitted tears Of Gods
bottle.
Meanwhile. let the empty lachryma-
tory of heaven stand forever. Let
no hand touch 1t. Let 40 wing strike
it. Let no collision crack it. Purel
than beryl or chrysoprasus. Let i
stand on the step of Jenovah's thron,
and under the arch of the unfadinl
rainbow. Passing under the corridors
Of the palace, the redeemed of earth
shall glance at it, and think of all the
earthly troubles from which they We're
delivered, and say, each to each, That
is what we heard Of ON earth" That
is what the Psalmist spoke of" There
once were put out tears" THAT IL
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
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