News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1893-08-31
THE SORROWS OF POVERTY,

pirate apparel. 1t makes no appeal for
help, but chooses rather to suffer than
expose its bitterness. Fathers who fail
to gain livelihood, so that they and
their children submit to constant priva-
ton; sewing women, who cannot ply
the needle quick enough to earn them
shelter and bread.
But whether reported or uncomplain-
ing, whether in seemingly comfortable
parlor. or in damp cellar, or in hot gar
ret, Gods angels of mercy are on the
watch. This moment those griefs are
being collected. Down on the back
I streets, in all the alleys, amid shanties
and log cabins, the work goes on. Tears
of want-seething in summers heat or
freezing in winters cold-they fall not
unheeded. They are jewels for heavens
casket. They are pledges of divine sym
pathy. They are tears for Gods bottle.
Again, the Lord preserves the remem-
brance of all paternal anxieties You
see man from the most infamous sur
roundings step out into the kingdom OF
God. He has heard no sermon. He has
received no startling providential warn
ing. What brought him to this new
| 10 UilC SCClCl-oOI IOOhCb
over the bottle in which he gathers the
tears of his people, and he saw paren-
tai tear in that bottle which has been
for 40 years unanswered. He said, go
to, now, and let me answer that tearp
and forthwith the wanderer is brought
home to God.
Oh, this work of training children for
Godi 1t is a tremendous work. Some
people think it easy. They have never
tried it. A child is placed in the arms
of the young parent. 1t is a beautiful
plaything. You look into the laughing
eyes. You examine the dimplss in the
feet. You wonder at its exquisite or
ganism. Beautiful playthingl But on
some nightfall as you sit rocking that
! little one a voice seems to fall straight
from the throne of God, saying: ''That
| child is immortall The stars shall die,
but that is an immortal! Suns shall
grow old with age and perish, but that
is an immortalr'
GOD UNDERSTANDS YOUR HEART.
Now, know with many of you this ;s
the chief anxiety. You earnestly wish
your children to grow up rightly, but
you find it hard work to make them do |
as you wish. You check their temper. |
You correct their waywardness; in the
midnight your pillow is wet with weep |
ing. You have wrestled with God in |
agony for the salvation of your children. |
You ask me if all that anxiety has beer
Intellectual. l answer, No. God IN
derstands your heart. He understands !
how hard you have tried to make thai |
daughter do right, though she is so very
petulant and reckless, and what pains
you have bestowed in teaching that SOL
to walk in the path of uprightness,
though he has such strong proclivities
for dissipation.
1 speak cheering word. God heard
every counsel you ever offered him. God
has known all the sleepless nights you
have passed. God has seen every sink
ing of your depressed spirit. God re-
members your prayers. He keeps eter-
nal record of your anxieties and in his
lachrymatory such as stood in an
Gent tomb, but in one that CLOVIS and
glitters beside the throne of God-he
holds all those exhausting tears.
The grass may be rank upon your
graves and the letters upon your tomb
stones defaced with the elements before
the divine response will come, but he
who hath declared, 81 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 gar
landed with glory that long hayward I
one will rush into your outstretched
arms of welcome and triumph. The
ort ID 4la
burn, and the stars fall, and time perish, |
but God will break his oath and trample |
upon his promises-never! never!
Again, God keeps perpetual remem-
brance of all bereavements. These are |
the trials that cleave the soul and throw
the red hearts of men to be crushed in
the wine press. Troubles at the store
you may leave at the store. Misrepre-
sentation and abuse of the world you
may leave ON the street where you found
them. The lawsuit that would swallow
your honest accumulations may be left
in the courtroom. But bereavements
are home troubles, and there is no escape
from them. You will see that vacant
chair. Your eye will catch at the sug-
gestive picture.
Ou hy GuO pItScIlCO VI ouCll |
ills. You go 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 shiv-
ering ON the glaciers. You may cross
the seas, but they can outsail the swift
est steamer. You may take caravan and
put out across the Arabian desert, but
they follow you like simoom, armed
with suffocation. You plunge into the
Mammoth cave, but they hang like sta
lactites from the roof of the great cav
etn. 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 haphazard.
scattering shots from the gun of care
less sportsman. But not so. 1t is good
aim that sends them just right, for God
is the archer.
This summer many of you will espe-
cially feel your grief as you go to places
where once you were accompanied by
those who are gone now. Your trou-
bles 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 put flowers in her
hair and looked up in her mothers I
face" until every drop of blood in your
heart tingled with gladness, and you !
thanked God with thrill of rapture
and you look around as much as to say: /
"Who dashed out that light? Who filled '
this cup with gall? What blast froze up /
these fountains of the hearth" i
Some of you have lost your parents i
within the last 10 months. Their prayers
for you are ended. You take up their l
picture and try to call back the kind
ness that once looked ont 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 almost anything-you would :
cross the sea; you would walk the earth j,
over-to hear just one word from those d,
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 to hide