Connecticut western news., 1900-08-30

world as the heirlooms of our royal family. The morning breaks from the east. The mists travel up, hill above hill, mountain above mountain, until sky lost. The forests are full of chirp, and buzz, and song Trees leaf and birds wing fiutter with gladness Honey makers in the log, and beak against the bark, and squirrels chat tering on the rail, and the call of the hawk out of a clear sky make you feel glad.
 The sun, which kindles confagra tions among the castles of cloud and sets minaret and dome af1ame, stoops to paint the lily white, and the buttercup yellow, and the forgetmenot blue. What can resist the sun? Light for the voyager over the deep! Light for the shepherd guarding the focks afield! Light for the poor who have no lamps to burn! Light for the downcast and the lowly! Light for aching eyes and burning brain and wasted captive! Light for the smooth brow of child hood and for the dim vision of the octogenarian! Light for queens cor onet and for sewing girls needle! Let there be light! Whose morning Is this? My morning. Your morning. Our Father gave us the picture and hung 1t on the sky in loops of fire. It Is the heirloom of our family. And so the night. It Is the full moon. The mists from shore to shore gleam like shatter ed mirrors, and the ocean under her glance comes up with great tides, panting upon the beach, mingling, as 1t were, foam and fire. The poor man blesses God for throwing such cheap light through the broken window pane into his cabin, and to the sick it seems a light from the other shore which bounds this great deep of human pain and woe. If the sun seem like song full and poured from brazen instru- ments that fill heaven and earth with great harmonies, the moon is plaintive and mild, standing beneath the throne of God, sending up her soft, sweet voice of praise, while the stars listen, and the sea. No mother ever more sweetly guarded the sick cradle than all night long this pale watcher of the sky bends over the weary, heartsick,
 
 black framed, black tasseled picture of the night? It is the heirloom of our family. Ours the grandeur of the spring, the crystals of the snow, the coral of the beach, the odors of the garden, the harmonies of the air.
 You cannot see a large estate in one morning. You must take several walks around 1t. The family property of this royal house of Jesus Is so great that we must take several walks to get any idea of its extent. Let the first walk be around this earth. All these val leys, the harvests that wave in them, and the cattle that pasture them-al these mountains, and the precious things hidden beneath them, and the crown of glacier they cast at the feet of the alpine hurricane-all these lakes, these islands, these continents, are ours. In the second walk go among the street lamps of heaven, and see stretching off on every side a wilderness of worlds. For us they shine. For us they sang at a Saviour's nativity. For, us they will wheel into line, and with their flaming torches add to the splendor of our triumph on the day for which all other days were made. In the third walk, go around the eternal city As we come near 1t, hark to the rush of it's chariots, and the wedding peal of It's great towers. The bell of heaven has struck 12. It is high noon. We look off upon the chap lets which never fade, the eyes that 4Bo4 close, the loved ones that never part, the procession that never halts, the trees that never wither, the walls that never can be captured, the sun that never sets, until we can no longer gaze, and we hide our eyes and ex- claim: 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" As these tides of glory rise, we have to retreat and hold fast lest we be swept off and drowned in the emotions of gladness, and thanksgiving, and tri- umph.
 What think you of the family prop erty? It Is considered an honor to marry into a family where there Is great wealth. The Lord the bride groom of earth and heaven, offers you his heart and his hand, saying in the words of the Canticles: "Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away" and once having put on thy hand the signet ring of his love, you will be en- dowed with all the wealth of earth, and all the honors of heaven.
 Homestead of Eternity.
 Almost every family looks back to homestead-some country place where you grew up. You sat on the doorsill. You heard the footsteps of the rain on the garret roof. You swung on the gate. You ransacked the barn. You waded into the brook. You thrashed the orchard for apples, and the neigh boring woods for nuts; and everything to you. I tell you of the old homestead of eternity. 'In my Fathers house are many mansions" When we talk of mansions, we think of Chatsworth, and its park nine miles in circumference, and It's conservatory, that astonishes the world; Its galleries of art, that con- tain the triumphs of Chantrey Canova and Thorwaldsen; of the kings and the queens who have walked its stately halls, or, flying over the heather, have hunted the grouse. But all the dwell ing places of dukes, and princes, and queens, are as nothing to the family mansion that Is already awaiting our arrival. The hand of the Lord Jesus lifted the pillars, and swung the doors, and planted the parks. Angels walk there, and the good of all ages. The poorest man in that house Is a million aire, and the lowliest king, and the tamest word he speaks is an anthem, and the shortest life an eternity.