The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-08-20

ing Of feet that will never move in your
dwelling again, and there is heavy,
leaden pressure on your heart. God has
dashed out the light Of your eyes. and the
heavy spirit that that woman carried out
OF the gate Of Main is no heavier than
yours. And you open the door. but he
comes not in. And you enter the nursery,
but she is not there. And you sit at the
table. but there Is a vacant chair next to
YOU. And the sun does not shine IS bright
~ as il used to. and the voices Of af-
lection DO not strike you with so quick
thrill and your cheek has not so healthy
a hue. and yOur eye has not so deep fire.
Do not know, Do we not all know
There is an uplifted woe on your heart.
You have been out carrying your loved
one beyond the gate of the city of Main.
But look yonder. Someone stands watch
ing. He seems waiting for you. AS you
come up he stretches out his hand of help.
His voice is one Of tenderness, yet thrills
with eternal strength. Who is it, The
very one who accosted the mourner at
the gate Of Main, and he says, Weep
not
Perhaps IL is a worse grief than that.
II may be living home trouble that you
cannot speak about TO your best friend.
II may be some domestic unhappiness. 1t
may be an evil suspicion. 1t may be the
disgrace following in the footsteps of a
son that is hayward, or a companion who
is cruel or a father that will not do right,
and for years there may have been a vul-
tUre striking its beak into the vitals of
your soul, and you sit there to-day feeling
it. is worse than death. II is. 1t is worse
than death And vet there is relief
Though the night may be the blacklist,
though the voices of hell may tell you to
curse God and die, look up and hear the
voice that acCosted the woman of the
text as IL says, Weep not"
Earth hath no sorrow
That heaven cannot cure.
learn, again. from all this, that Christ
is the master of the grave. Just outside
the gate of the city, Death and Christ
measured lauces and when the Young
man rose Death dropped. Now we are
sure of our resurrection. Oh, what a
scene it was when that young man came
back The mother never expected to
hear him speak again. She never thought
that he would kiss her again. How the
tears started, and how her heart
throbbed as she said: "Oh, my son, my
son, my son!'' Ana that scene is going TO
be repeated. 1t is going to be repeated
ten thousand times. These broken fam
lily circles have got to come together.
These extinguished household lights
have got to be rekindled. There will be
a stir in the family lot in the cemetery,
and there will be a rush into life at the
command, Young man, | say unto thee,
ariser' AS the child shakes off the dust
of the tomb, and comes forth fresh and
fair and beautiful and you throw your
arms around it and press it to your heart,
angel to angel will repeat the story of
Main, He delivered him to his mother"
O We troubled souls O We who have lived
to see every prospect blasted. peeled,
scattered, consumed wait a little.
The seed-time OF tears will become
the wheat harvest. In cline cut
of no wintry blast, under a sky
palled by no hurtling tempest and amidst
redeemed ones that weep not, that part
not, that die not, friend will come TO
friend, and kindred will join kindred, and
the long procession that marches the ave
nues of gold will lift up their palms as
again and again it is announced that the
same one who came to the relief of this
woman of the text came to the relief of
many maternal heart, and repeated the
wonders of resurrection, and delivered
him to his mother" Oh, that will be the
harvest of the world. That will be the
coronation of princes. That will be the
Sabbath of eternity.