Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1894-09-06

dropped their scales. and the Temps ts
iolued their wings, and the boy 5
satchel OF a few loaves made a banquet
LOT nve Thousand, and the sad process
sion OF my text broke up in congratu-
iatlon and hosanna!
Again, learn from this subject that
ohrist was sympathizer. Mark you,
TINS was city funeral. In the country.
when the bell tolls, they know all
aoont 1t for five miles around, and they
know what was the matter with the
mai, how old he was, and what were
his last experiences. They know with
what temporal prospects he has left
his family. There is no haste, there is
no lndecency in the obsequies. There
IS nothing done as a mere matter OF
business. Even the children come out
as the procession passes and look sym
pathetic and the tree-shadows seem to
deepen, and the brooks weep in sym
pathy as the procession goes by. But,
mark you, this that am speaking OF
was city funeral. In great cities the
cart jostles the hearse, and there is
mirth and gladness and indifference as
the weeping procession goes by. In
this city of Main it was common thing
To have trouble and bereavement and
death. Christ saw it every dag there.
Perhaps that very hour there were
Others being carried out, but this fire.
quency of trouble did not harden
Christ's heart at all. lie stepped right
out, and He saw this mourner. and He
had compassion on her, and lie said:
Weep not"
Now. | have to tell you, o bruised
souls, and there are many everywhere
have you ever looked over any great
audience and noticed how many shad-
ows of sorrow there are?) | come to
all such and say: Christ meats you
and lie has compassion on You. and He
says, Weep not. >" Perhaps with some
it is financial trouble. 80" you say,
1T is such a silly thing for a man to
cry over lost money" Is it? Suppose
YOU had large fortune, and all luxu-
ries brought to your table, and your
wardrobe was full and your home was
beautified by music, and sculpture, and
painting and thronged by the elegant
and educated, and then some rough
misfortune should strike you in the
face, and trample your treasures, and
taunt your children for their faded
dress, and send you into com
mercial circles an underling, where
once you waved scepter of gold, do
you think you would cry then? think
you would. But Christ comes and
meets all such to-day. He sees all the
straits in which you have been thrust.
He observes the sheer of that man who
once was proud TO walk in your shadow
and glad to get your help. lie sees the
protested note, the uncanceled judg-
ment the foreclosed mortgage. the
heart-breaking evaporation, and he
says. ewes not own the cattle on
a thousand hills. will never let you
starve From my hand the fowls of
Heaven peck all their food. And viii
let you starve? Never-no, my chill,
never"
Or perhaps this tramp at the gate of
Main has an echo in your own bereft
spirit You went out to the grave, and
you felt you never could come back
again. You left your heart there. The
white snow of death covered all the
garden. You listen for the speaking
of voices that will never be heard
again, and the sounding 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
rate 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 va
cant chair next to you. And the sun
does not shine as brightly as il used to,
and the voices of affection 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 Some one stands
watching. He seems waiting for you.
As you come up He stretches out His
hand of help His voice is full of tender
ness. vet 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 it is worse grief than that.
II NAV be living home trouble that
you cannot speak about to your best
friend. 1t may be some domestic un-
happiness. II may be an evil suspicion.
II NAV be the disgrace following in the
footsteps of son that is hayward or
companion who is cruel, or a father
that will not do right; and for years
there NAV have been vulture striking
its beak into the vitals of your soul,
and Won sit there to-day feeling it is
worse than death. 1t is. 1t is worse
than death And yet 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 it says: Weep not
Earth hath no sorrow