Milford chronicle., 1895-08-30
A Dying Negro Boy.

A little childs mother had died, and
they comforted her They said; =" Your
mother has gone to heaven. Don't cry"
And the next day they went TO the grave
yard, and they laid the body Of the mother
down into the ground, and the little girl
came up to the verge of tho grave and
looking down at the body of her mother
said, SIS this heaveng" Oh, we have no
idea what heaven isl It Is the grave here,
it is darkness here, but there is merry
making yonder. Methinks when n soul
arrives some angel takes it around to show
it the wonders Of that blessed place The
usher angel says to the newly arrived;
'These are the martyrs that persisted at
Piedmont. These were torn to pieces at
the Inquisition. This is the throne Of the
great Jehovah. This is Jesusl" Il am
going to see Jesus, said a dying negro
boy. 81 am going to sec Jesus" And the
missionary said, "You are sure you will
see him?'' ooh, yes; that's what I want
to go to heaven for. - But, said the mis-
sionary, suppose that Jesus should go
away from heaven-what thenY II
should follow him, said the dying negro
boy. But if Jesus went down to hell
what then?n The dying boy thought for
moment and then he said Massa, where
Jesus is there can be no hclll' Oh, to
stand in his presence That will be heav-
en- Oh, to put our hand in that hand
which was wounded for MS ON the cross, to
go around amid all the groups of the re-
deemed and shake hands with prophets
and apostles and martyrs and with our
own dear, beloved ones-that will be the
great reunion. We cannot imagine it now,
our loved ores seem so far away. When
fhnr dom
seem TO come to us.
We 20 on the banks Of the Jordan and
call ACROSS to them, but they don't seem
to hear. We say, rs it well with the
child, is it wen with the loved oaesY' and
we listen to hear if any voice comes back
over the waters. Monet Nono Unbelief
says, "Ehey are dead and extinct forever,
but, blessed be God, we have Bible that
tells us difIcrcnt. We open it and find that
they are neither dead nor extinct; that
they never were so much alive as nowi
that they are only waiting for our coming,
and that we shall join them on the Other
side Of the river. Oh. glorious reunionl
we cannot grasp it now. Eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered
into the heart of man the things which
God hath prepared for them that love him"
The Song OF Heaven
I remark again, we can in this world
get no idea of the song Of heaven. You
know there is nothing more inspiriting
than music. In the baltic Of Waterloo the
highlanders were giving way, and Wei
lington found out that the bands Of music
had ceased playing. He sent quick dis
patch telling them to play with utmost
spirit a battle march The music started,
the highlanders were rallied, and they
dashed on till the day was won We APP
probate the power Of secular music, but
do we appreciate the power of sacred song2
There is nothing more inspiring to me
than whole congregation lifted up on the
wave of holy melody. When we sing some
of those dear old psalms and tunes, they
rouse all the memories Of the past. Why,
some Of them were cradle songs in our fa-
theirs house. They are all sparkling with
the morning dew Of thousand Christian
Sabbaths. They were sung by brothers
and sisters gone now, by voices that were
aged and broken in the musio-voioes mono
tho less sweet because they did tromble