Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1897-01-30

river. II Was evening, an,. wanted tt
GO over the river. and so waved lily
hat and shouted, and after awhile saw
some one waving on the opposite bank,
and L heard him shout, and the boat
came across and got i'll and was trans.
ported And so l sappose it will be il
the evening CT Cur LIE. We will come
down 10 tic river of death and give 4
signal 10 our friends oil the ether shore,
md they Will give signal back to US,
and the boat comes, and our departed
kindred arc the o;lrsmcn, the fires of the
setting day tingeing the tops of the pad
dies.
Oh, have yon never sat by such a
deathbed? In that hour you hear the de-
parting soul cry: "Hark Look" You
hcarllencd. and yon locked. a little
child pining away because of the death
Of its mother getting weaker and weak
CT every dry. was taken into the room
where hung The picture of her mother.
She seemed to enjoy looking at it, and
then she WAS taken away, and after
awhile died. In the last moment that
van and wasted little one lifted her
hands, while her face lighted up with
The glory Of the next world and cried
out, "Mothcrw Do you tell me she did
not see her mother? She did. So i'll my
first settlement at Bcllevillc Il plain man
s:;id to me: ''What do you think heard
last night? Twas i'll the room where one
Of my neighbors was dying. He was q
good MIN, and he said he heard the an
gels of God singing before the throne.
haven tmuch poetry about nc, but L lis
tened, and 1 heard them too. /" Said [,
81 have no doubt of it." Why, we are
to be taken up to heaven at last by min
istcring spirits. Who are they to be;
Souls that went up from Madras Or An
tioch OF Jerusalem? Oh, no, our glori-
fed bindcA arc going to troop around us.
Heaven is not stately, formal place,
as 1 sometimes hear it described, very
frigidity ofsplendor, where people stand
Oh cold formalities and go roundabout
with heavy crowns of gold Oil their
heads. No, that is not my idea of heav-
Ell. My idea of heaven is more like this:
You are seated in the eveningtide by the
fireplace, your whole family there, OF
nearly all of them there. Whitley your are
seated, talking and enjoying the even
ing hour, there is Il knock at the door,
and the door opens and there comes III
a brother that has been long absent. He
has been absent, for years you have not
seen him, and no sooner do you make
ND your mind that it is certainly he
than you leap up, and the question is
who shall give him the first embrace.
That is my idea of heaven-a great
home circle where they are waiting fol
us. Oh, will you not know your moth.
ers voice there? She who always called
you by your first name long after Others
had given you the formal "Mister?
You were never anything but james OF
John or George or Thomas or Mary OF
Florence to her. Will you not know
your child yoice-shc of the bright eye
and the ruddy cheek and the quiet step,
who came in from play and flung her
self into your lap q very shower OF
mirth and beauty? Why, the picture is
craven i'll your soul. 1t cannot veal
out. If that little one should stand OIL
the other side Of some heavenly hill and
call to you, you would hear her voice
above the burst of heavens great or
chestra. Know it? You could not helT
but know it.
Consolation.
Now I bring you this glorious con-
ISOLATION of future recognition. If you
could get this thcorSsiilto your heart, ii
would lift a great many shadows that
are stretching across it. When was i
lad, used to go out TO the railroad
track and put my ear down OF the track,
and I could hear the express train rum
bling miles away and coming on, and
today, my friends, if we only had faith
enough, we could put our car down tc
the grave of cur dead and listen and
hear III the distance the runbling Oh Of
the chariots Of resurrection victory.
Oh, heaven, sweet heavenl You dc
not spell heaven as you used to spell il
-h-e-a-v-e-n, heaven. But now when
you want TO spell that word you place
side by side the faces Of the loved ones
who are gone, and in that irradiation of
light and love and beauty and joy you
spell it out as never before i'll songs and
halleluiahs. O yc whose hearts arc
down under the sod Of the cemetery,
cheer up ut the thought Of this reunionI
Oh, how much you will have to tell
them when once you meet them!
How much you have been through
since you saw them lastl On the shiny
shore you will talk it all over. The
heartaches, the loneliness, the sleepless
nights, the weeping until you had nc
more power to weep because the heart
was withered and dried up. Story OF
vacant chair and empty cradle and lit
tie shoe only half Worn out, never to be
worn again, just the shape of the foot
that once pressed it. And dreams when
you thought that the departed had come
back again, and the room seemed bright
with their faces, and you started up to
greet them, and in the effort the dream
broke, and you found yourself standing
amidroom in the midnight : alone.
Talking it all over, and then, hand in
hand, walking up and down i'll the light.
No sorrow, no tears, no death. Oh,
heaven, beautiful heaven! Heaven
where our friends are; heaven where we
expect to be. In the east they take a
cage of birds and bring it to the tomb Of
the dead, and then they open the door
of the cage, and the birds, flying out,
sing And would today bring cage
of Christian consultations to the grave
of your loved ones, and I would open
tho door and lnt them fill all the air