Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-02-27

soul that walked with mine! Oh, little
soul that looked SO fearlessly down
into the depths, do you exist no more
bitterly: st is for this hour-this-that
men blind reason and crush out
thought! For this hour-this, this
they barter truth and knowledge, take
any lie, any creed, so it does not whis-
per to them Of the dead that they arc
dead! o God, God, for hereafter!'
Atuttering to himself, Waldo walked
with bent head, the mist in his eyes,
70 the souls wild cry for its own
there are many answers. He began
to think Of them. Was not there one
Of them all from which he might suck
one drop of comfort?
You shall see her again." says the
Christian, the true Bible Christian.
Yves. you shall see her again. And
saw the dead, great and small, stand
before God. And the books were open
ed. and the dead We're judged from
those things which were written in the
books. And whatsoever was not found
written in the book of life was cast
into the lake of fire. which is the sec
ond DEATH Yes: you shall see her
again. She died SO. with her knee un-
bent, with her hand unraised. with
q prayer unuttered, in the pride of her
intellect and the strength of her youth.
She loved, and she was loved. But she
said no prayer to God; she cried for
no mercy; she repented of no sin! Yes;
you shall see her again"
In his bitterness Waldo laughed low.
All. he had long ceased to hearken
to the hellish voice!
But yet another speaks.
You shall see her again" says the
nineteenth century Christian, deep into
whose soul modern unbelief and
thought have crept, though he knows
it not. He 1t is who uses his Bible
as the pearl fishers use their Shells
sorting out gems from refuse. He sets
his pearls after his own fashion, and
he sets them we'll. do not fear," he
says. Hell and Judgment are not.
God is love. know that beyond this
blue sky above us is love as wide
spreading over all. The All Father
will show her to you again-not spirit
only. The little hands. the little feet.
you loved--you shall lie down and kiss
them if you will. Christ arose and did
eat and drink. So shall she arise. The
dead. all the dead raised incorrupti-
BILE! God is love. You shall see her
again"
1t is heavenly song this of the nine
teenth century Christian. A man might
dry his tears to listen to it but for this
one thing-Waldo muttered to him
self confusedly:
'"The thing ] loved was woman
proud and young. 1t had a mother
once, who, dying, kissed her little baby
and prayed God that she might see it
again. If it had lived, the loved thing
would itself have had son, who,
when he closed the weary eyes and
smoothed the wrinkled forehead of
his mother, would have prayed God to
see that old face smile again in the
hereafter. To the son heaven will be
no heaven If the sweet worn face is
not in one OF the choirs. He will look
for it through the phalanx of Gods
glorified angels, and the youth will
look for the maid and the mother for
the baby. And whose then shall she
be at the resurrection of the dead?
"Ah, God! All, God! A beautiful
dreamw he cried But can any one
dream it not sleeping?"
Waldo paced on, moaning in agony
and longing.
high answer:
"What have you to do with flesh.
the gross and miserable garment in
which spirit hides itself? You shall
see her again. But the hand, the foot,
the foEshead. you loved you shall see
no more. The loves, the fears, the
frailties, that are born with the flesh,
with the flesh shall die. Let them die!
There is that in man that cannot die
seed, germ, an embryo, a spiritual
essence. Higher than she was on
earth, as the tree is higher than the
seed, the man than the embryo, so
shall you behold her, changed, gleri-
fed"
High words, ringing well. They are
the offering of jewels to the hungry, of
gold to the man who dies for bread.
Bread is corruption; gold is incorrupti-
BILE. Bread is light; gold is heavy.
Bread is common; gold is rare. But the
hungry man will barter all your mines
for one morsel of bread. Around Gods
throne there may be choirs and com
panies of angels, cherubim and sera-
phim, rising tier above tier, but not for
one of them all does the soul cry aloud.
only perhaps for a little human wom-
an, full of sin, that it once loved!
Change is death, change is death!"
he cried. II want no angel, only She
no holier and no better, with all her
sins upon her. So give her me or give
me nothingW
For the souls fierce cry for immor-
tally is this, only this; Return to me