The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1900-08-31

We are all bereaved.
Their streaming eyes together flow
For human guilt and mortal woe.
If you rejoice at another's misfor-
tune you are not one of the sheep, but
one of the goats, and the vulture of
sin hath alighted on your soul and not
the Dove of the Spirit.
Next, / notice the family property.
After a man of large estate dies, the
relatives assemble ito hear the will
read. So much of the property is
willed to his sons and SO much to his
daughters, and SO much to benevolent
societies. Our Lord Jesus hath died,
and we are assembled to-day to hear
the will read. He says: 'My peace
give unto you" Through His apostles
He says: "All things are yours"
What, everything? Yes, everything!
This world and the next. In distin-
guished families there are old pictures
hanging on the wall. They are called
are very old, and have come down
from generation to generation. So
look upon all the beauties of the
natural world as the heirlooms of our
royal family. The morning breaks
from the east. The mists travel up,
hill above hill, mountain above noun
tain, until sky lost. The forests are
full of chirp and buzz and song. Trees
leaf and BIRDS wing flutter with glad
ness. Honey makers in the log and
beak against the bark, and squirrels
chattering on the rail, and the call of
the hawk out of clear sky make you
feel glad. The sun, which kindles
confagrations among the castles of
cloud and sets minaret and dome
aflame, stoops to paint the lily white
and the buttercup yellow and the for
get-me-not blue. What can resist the
sun? Light for the voyager over the
deep! Light for the shepherd guard
ing the focks afield! Light for the
poor who have no lamps to burn!
Light for the downcast and lowly!
Light for aching eyes ana burning
brain and wasted captive! Light for
the smooth brow of childhood and for
the dim vision of the OctOgenarian!
Light for queens coronet and for sew
ing girls needle! Let there be light!
Whose morning is this? My morning.
Your morning. Our Father gave us
the picture and hung it on the sky
in loops of fire. 1t is the heirloom of
our family. And so is the night. 1t is
the full moon. The mists from shore
to shore CLEAN like shattered mirrors,
and the ocean, under her glance,
comes up with great tides, painting
upon the beach, mingling, as it were,
foam and fire. The poor man blesses
God for throwing such a cheap light
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 plain
tive 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
IF the sky bends over the weary, heart
sick, slumbering earth. Whose is this
black framed, black tasseled picture
Of the night? 1t 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 large estate in one
You must take several walks
around it. The family property of this
oval house of Jesus is so great that
We must take several walks to get any
dea of its extent. Let the first walk
,e around this earth. All these val
eys, the harvests that wave in them
md the cattle that pasture them-all
hese mountains and the precious
hings hidden beneath them and the
crown of glacier they cast at the feet
# the Alpine hurricane-all these
axes. these islands, these continents.
ire ours. In the second walk go among
he street lamps of Heaven and see
stretching off on every side wilder
less of worlds. For us they shine. For
is they sang at a Saviour's nativity.
'or US they will wheel into line and
With their flaming torches add to the
plendor of our triumph on the day
or which all other days were made.
n the third walk go around the eter-
lal city. As we come near it, bark
O the rush of its chariots and the we'd
ing peal of its great towers. The
,ell of Heaven has struck 12. It is
Ugh noon. We look off upon the chap
cts which never fade, the eyes that
lever weep, the temples that never
lose, the loved ones that never part,
he procession that never halts, the
rees that never wither, the walls that
ever can be captured, the sun that
lever sets, until we can no longer gaze,
nd we hide our eyes and exclaim: Eye
ath not seen nor ear heard, neither
ave entered into the heart of man the
hings which God hath prepared for
hem that love HIM" As these tides
f glory rise we have to retreat and
old fast lest we be swept off and
rowned in the emotions of gladness
nd Thanksgiving and triumph.
What think you of the family prop
rty? 1t is considered an honor to |
harry into a family where there is
reat wealth. The Lord, the Bridegroom |
f earth and Heaven, offers you His |
cart and His hand, saying in the |
rords of the Canticles: Rise up, nv |
I'VE, my fair one. and come away" |
md once having put on thy hand the
gnet ring of His love, you will be en-
owed with all the wealth of earth and |
II the honors of Heaven.
Almost every family looks back to |
- homestead--some country place |
here you grew up. You sat on the |
oorsil.. You heard the footsteps of
ae rain on t1e Rarret root. You