Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1894-02-01

''Mheres mother? I will tell you where
she is not. though once she was there.
Some of you started with her likeness
on your face and her principles in your
soul. But you have cast her out. That
was an awful thing for you to do. but
YOU have done it. That hard, grinding.
! dissipated look you never got from her
If you had seen anyone strike her you
would have struck him down with
out much care whether the blow was
Just sufficient or fatal. but, my boy,
you have struck her down-struck her
innocence from your face and struck
her principles from your soul You
struck her down. The tent pin that
Jael drove three times into the skull Of
Sisera was not so cruel as the stab you
have made more than three times
through your mothers heart. But she
is waiting yet. for mothers are slow to
give up their boys-waiting at some
window. il may be a window on earth
Or at some window in Heaven. All
others may cast you off. Your wife may
seek divorce and have no more pa
tience with you. Your father may dis
inherit you and say: Let him never
again darken the door of our house. >
But there are two persons who do not
give you up-God and mother.
How many disappointed mothers
waiting at the window. Perhaps the
panes of the window are not great
over by exquisite lambrequin but the
window is made of small panes, /
would saw about six or eight of them.
in summer wreathed with trailing
vine, and in winter pictured by the
Raphaels of the frost, a real country
window. The mother sits there knit
ting, or busy with her needle of home
" repairs, when she looks up. and sees
coming across the bridge of the mead
ow brook stranger, who dismounts
in front of the window. He lifts and
drops The heavy knocker of the farm
house door. Come mr. is the re-
sponse He gives his name, and says,
81 have come on a sad errand There
is nothing the matter of my son in the
city, is there?n she asks. ''Ies." he
says, Your son gog into an unfortu-
nate encounter Win y man ~ ~
liquor saloon last night. and is badly
hurt. In fact he cannot get well ]
hate to tell yon all. am sorry to say
he is dead" Dead she cries, as she
totters back. 30 my son. my son.
my son. Would God | had died for
thee.'' That is the ending of all her
cares. and anxieties, and good counsels
for that boy. That is her pay for her
self-sacrifices in his behalf That is
the bad news from the battle. So the
tidings of derelict or Christian sons
travel to the windows Of earth or the
windows of heaven at which mothere
sit.
But, says someone. ''are you not
mistaken about my glorified mother
hearing of my evil doings since she
went away" Says someone else: Are
you not mistaken about my gloritied
mother hearing of my self-sacrifice
and moral bravery and struggle to do
right!n mol Heaven and earth are in
constant communication. There are
trains running every five minutes
trains of immortals ascending and de,
scending-spirits going from earth to
Heaven to live there. Spirits descend
ing from Heaven to earth to minister
and help. They hear from us many
times every day. Do they hear good
news or bad news from this battle,
this Sedan. this Thermopyle, this
Austerlitz, in which every one of us is
fighting on the right side or the wrong
side? O God! whose l am, and whom
| am trying to serve, as result of this
sermon. roll over on all mothers a new
sense of their responsibility. and upon
all children. whether still in the nurs.
cry or out on the tremendous Esdrae-
lon of midlife or old age, the fact that
their victories or defeats sound clear
ont, clear up to the windows of sympa-
thetic mate nifty. O is not this the
minute when the cloud of blessing
filed with the exhaled tears of anxious
mothers shall burst in showers of
mercy on this audience.
There is one thought that is almost
too tender for utterance. almost fear
to start it lest have not enough con-
troll of my emotions TO conclude it As
when we were children we so often
came in from play or from hurt or
from some childish injustice practiced
upon us. and as soon as the door was
opened we cried: Where's mother?"
and she said: Here / am" and we
buried our weeping face in her lap; SO
after while when we get through
with the pleasures aud hurts of this
life, we will, by the pardoning mercy
of Christ, enter the heavenly home. and
among the first questions; not the first
but among the first, will be the old
question that we used to ask, the ques-
ton that is being asked in thousands OF
places at this very moment-the ques-
ton: "Wheres mother" And it will |
not take long for us to find her or for |
her to find us, for she will have been |
watching at the window for our
coming. and with the other children of
our household of earth, we will again
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