Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1893-09-02


stalactites from the roof of the great
cavern. They stand behind with skele'
ton fingers to push you ahead. They
stand before you to throw you back.
They run upon you like reckless horse
men. They charge upon you with
cleaning spear They seem to come
haphazard, scattering shots from the
gun of careless sportsman. But not
SO. II is good aim that sends them just
right; for God is the archer. This sum.
mer many of you will especially feel
your grief as you go TO places 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 speed away. Or, tarrying
at home, they will 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
nut flowers in her hair, and looked up
in her mothers face" until every drop
of blood in your heart tingled with
gladness, and you thanked God with
thrill of rapture; and you look around
rs much as to say: "Who dashed out
that light? Who filled this cup with
gallo What blast froze up these fount-
aims 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 n 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 al
most anything-you would cross the
sea, you would WALL 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 parent. Now, you
have done your best with your grief.
You smile when you do not feel like 1t.
But though you may deceive the world,
God knows. He looks down upon the
empty cradle, upon the desolate 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 jewels. Cast thy burden
upon my arm and l will sustain You.
| All those tears have gathered 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 troublesP
Through all the ages of eternity, what
use of a great collection of tears? do
not know that they will be kept there
forever. do not know but that in
some distant age of Heaven an angel OF
| God NAV look into the bottle and find
it us empty of tears as the lachrymals
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, and cry: From what
river-depths of Heaven were those
gems gathered?" and n thousand
voices reply: "These are transmitted
tears from Gods bottle" 1see scepters
of light stretched down from the
throne of those who on earth were
trod on of men. and in every scepter-
point. and inlaid in every stair OF
golden throne behold an indescriba-
BILE richness and luster, 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
radiant 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 on the robes of Babylonian pro-
cessions. forgotten; the Golconda mines
charred in the last confagration; 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 flame forever, 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
tla arch of tho unfadinU rainbow