The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1900-05-18

air. Health in all the pulses-health
of vision. health of spirits, immortal
health. No raeking cough, no sharp
pleurisies, no consuming fevers, no ex-
hausting pains, no hospitals Of wound
ed men. Health swing IN the air,
health flowing In all the streams,
health blooming on the banks. No
headaches. nc side aches, no back
aches. That child that died in the
agonies of Group hear her voice now
ringing In the anthem. That old man
that went bowed down with the in
firmities Of age, see him walk now
with the step of an immortal athlete
forever young again. That night
when the needlewoman tainted away
in the garnet, a wave of the heavenly
air resuscitated her forever. For
everlasting years to have neither ache,
NJ pain, nor weakness, nor fatigue.
Eye hath not seen it, ear hath not
heard it,"
No Separation There.
In this world we only meet to part.
1t is good-by, good-by. Farewells
floating in the air. We heal it at the
rail car windows and at the steamboat
Wharf-good-by. Children lisp it, and
old age answers it. Sometimes we say
1t in a light Observation-Disclosures
sometimes with anguish in which the
soul breaks down-good-by! All, that
is the word that ends the Thanksgiving
banquet, that is the word hat comes
In to close the Christmas chant. Good
by, good-by. But not so in heaven.
Welcomes in the air, welcomes at the
gates. welcomes at the house of many
mansions, but no good-by. That group
is constantly being augmented. They
are going up from our circles of earth
to join in-little voices to join the
anthem, little hands to take hold in
the great home circle, little feet to
dance in the eternal glee, little crowns
to be cast down before the feet of Je-
sus. Our friends are in two groups-a
group this side of the river and a
group on the other side of the river.
NOW there goes one from this to that
and another from this to that and soon
we will all be gone over. How many of
your loved ones have already entered
upon that blessed place? If l should
take paper and pencil, do you think
could put them all down? All, my
friends. the waves of Jordan roar so
hoarsely we cannot hear the Joy on
the other side when that group is aug
mented.
Reunion Beyond the Grave.
Unbelief says, They are dead, and
they are annihilated," but blessed be
God we have a Bible that tells us diff
ferent! We open it, and we find they
are neither dead nor annihilated-that
they were so much alive as now
they are only waiting for our
coming and that we shall join them
on the other side of the river. Oh,
reunion, 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
What a place of explanation it will
be! 1 see every day profound mystic
rles of providence. There is no ques-
lion we ask oftener than Why? There
are hundreds of graves in Greenwood
and Laurel Hill that need to be ex-
Hospitals for the blind and
anne, asy1ums for the idiotic and in
sane, almshouses for the destitute and
| world of pain and misfortune that
more than human solution.
Tod will clear it all up. In the light
hat pours from the throne no dark
mystery can live. Things now utterly
nscrutable will be illumined as plain
y as though the answer was written
N the jasper wall or sounded in the
emple anthem. Bartimeus will thank ]
Tod that he was blind and Joseph that
lie was cast into the pit, and Daniel
hat he denned with the lions, and +
id that he was driven from Jerusa- ,
and that invalid, that for twenty !
ears he could not lift his head from Z
he pillow, and that widow, that she Z
lad such hard work to earn bread for f
.er children. The song will be all the 4
for earth's weeping eyes and 2
ching heads and exhausted hands @
scourged backs and martyred G
comics. But we can get no idea OF +
hat anthem here. We appreciate the u
over of secular music, but do we an Il
the power of sacred song? q
here is nothing more inspiring to @
lie than a whole congregation lifted A
n the wave of holy melody. When 2
e sing some of those dear old u
salms and tunes, they rouse all the r
lemories of the past. Why, some of "
were cradle songs in our fathers g
ouse! They are all sparkling with n
morning dew Of a thousand Chris Is
an Sabbaths. They were sung by n
and sisters gone now, by O
oices that were aged and broken in lie
lie music, voices none the less sweet O
ecause they did tremble and break. W
The Music OF Heaven. n
Iyyhor 7 LAar &Io-. I ~