The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1897-02-12

they wander off into dissipation and
into intidelity. and at last make ship
wreck of their immortal souls. on their
deathbed and in the day of judgment
they will curse you'll Seated by the
register or the stove. what if on the
wall should come out the history OF
your children? What a history-the
mortal and immortal life of your loved
ones, Every parent Is writing the
history Of his child. He is writing it,
composing it into song or tuning 1t
into groan.
Again, | remark that home is type
of Heaven. To bring US to that home
Christ left His home. Far up and far
back in the history of Heaven there
came period when its most illustrious
citizen was about to absent Himself.
He was not going TO sail from beach to
beach; we have often done that. He
was not going to put out from one
hemisphere to another hemisphere;
many OF us have done that. But He was
to sail from world to world, the spaces
UNEMPLOYED and immensities untrav-
eled. Noworld had ever hailed Heaven,
and Heaven had never hailed any other
world. think that the windows and
the balconies were thrOnged, and that
the pearly beach was crowded with
those who had come to see Him sail out
of the harbOr of light into the oceans
beyond. Out and out. and on and on,
and down and down He sped. until one
night, with only one To greet Him, He
arrived. His Decentralization so UMPIRE
tending. so quiet that it was not known
on earth until the excitement in the
cloud gave intimatiOn that something
grand and glorious had happened.
Who comes there? From what port
did He sail? Why was this the
place of His destination? | question
the shepherds. | question the camel
drivers, l question the angels l have
found out. He was an exile. But the
world has had plenty of exiles. Abra-
ham, an exile from Ur of the Chaldees;
Johns exile from Ephesus; KosciuskO,
an exile from Poland: MazZini. an exile
from Rome; Emmett. an exile from Ire
land; Victor Hugo, an exile from
France; KOSsuth. an exile from Hun
gary. But this One of whom | speak
to-day had such resOunding farewell
and came into such chilling reception
for not even an hostler went out with
his lantern to help Him in-that He is
more to be celebrated than any other
expatriated one of earth or Heaven
At our best estate we are only pill
grims and strangers here. Heaven is
our home" Death will never knock at
the door of that mansion, and in all
that country there is not a single
grave. How glad parents are in holt
daytime to gather their children home
again. But have noticed that almost
always there is a son or a daughter
absent-absent from home, perhaps
absent from the country, per-
haps absent from the world. Oh. how
glad our Heavenly Father will be
when He gets all His children home
with Him in Heaven. And how de-
hghtful it will be for brothers and sis
tsrs to meet after long separation.
Once they parted at the door of the
tomb; now they meet at the door of inn
mortality. Once they saw only
Through a glass. darlxIy;;" now it is
face to face corruption. ineOrrup-
ton; mortality, immortality. Where
are now all their sins and sorrows and
troubles? Overwhelmed in the Red
Sea of death while they have passed
through dryshod.
One night, lying on my lounge, when
very tired, my children all around
about me in full romp and hilarity and
laughter-on the lounge, half awake
and ha1f ac1nar~ I Ivanr,al
l was in a far country. 1t was not
Persia. although more than oriental
luxuriance crowned the cities. 1t was
not the tropics, although more than
tropical fruitfulness filed the gardens.
1t was not italy. although more than
Italian sOftness filed the air. And I
wandered around looking for thorns
and nettles, but | found that none Of
them grew there, and ! saw the sun
rise, and / watched TO see it set, but
ii sank not. And l saw the
people in holiday attire, and I
said: when will they put off
this and put on workingmen's garb
and again delve in the mine or swelter
at the FORGE" but they never put on
the holiday attire. And / wandered in
the suburbs of the city to find the
place where the dead sleep, and I
looked all along the line of the beauti-
full hills, the place where the dead
might most blissfully sleep, and saw
towers and castles, but not a mausO-
leum or monument or a white slab
could | see. And | went into the
chapel Of the great town and l said:
Where do the poor worship and where
are the hard benches on which they
sit?@ And the answer was made
me: We have no poor in this coun-
try And then | wandered out to
find the novels of the destitute. and
found mansions of amber and ivory
and gold. but not tear could / see,
not sigh could / hear. and | was be-
and l sat down under the
branches of great tree and l said,
Where am /? And whence comes all
his scene?" And then out from among
he leaves. and up the fowery paths,
md across the bright streams there
;ame beautiful group thronging all
ibout me. and as | saw them come I
.houoht I know their STEM and - rha--