The Globe-republican., 1893-09-01


there is no escape from them You
will see that vacant chair. Your eye
will catch at the suggestive picture.
You cannot fly the presence of such
ills. You 60 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 tip-top and sit
shivering on the glaciers You may
cross the seas. but they can
outsail the swiftest steamer.
You may take caravan, and put
out across the Arabian desert, but
they follow you like simeon, armed
with suffocation. You plunge into the
Mammoth cave. but they hang like
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 a careless sportsman. But not
SO. 1t 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 60 to places where
once you were accompanied by those
who are gone now. Your troub 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
| will srn< I nj
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
| gladness. ana you thanked God with q
thrill of rapture: and you look around
| that light? Who filed this cup with
! gall? What blast froze up these fount-
| aims of the hear.?" 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 a 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 walk the earth over-tc
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 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 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 viii sustain you.
All those tears | have gathered into Nv
bottle"
But what is the use of having SO
many tears in Gods lachrymatory? In
that great casket or vase, why does
Cod preserve all your troubles?
Through all the ages of eternity, what
use of 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 may look into the bottle and find /
it as 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
sanctiied sorrows. and those tears
were changed into pearls that are
now set in the crowns and robes of the
ransomed. 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" Isee 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 AID 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-poor diamonds
that make kings proud. the preciou.
stones that adorned Persian tiara anC
famed on the robes of Babylonian pro
cessions. forgotten: the Golconda mine.
charred in the last conAagration: but
firm as the everlasting hills, and pure
as the light that streams from the
and bright as the river that ,
flows from the eternal rock. shall CLEAN .
shall sparkle. shall fame forever. thes&
tears of Gods bottle. ,,
Meanwhile. let the empty lachryma- =
tory of Heaven stand forever. Let NJ ,