Connecticut western news., 1900-06-21

us man, wno whs howied at after ne was dead. I will have you go unto him with your bruised soul in some humble child prayer saying: Il see thy wounds wounds of head, wounds of feet, wounds of heart. Now look at my wounds and see what I have suffered and through what battles I am going, and I entreat thee by those wounds of thine sympathiZe with me" And he will sympathize and he will help. Go and tell Jesus.
 Again, I commend the behavior of the disciples to all the bereaved. How many in garb of mourning! How many emblems of sorrow you behold everywhere! God has his own way of taking apart a family. We must get out of the way for coming generations. We must get off the stage that others may come on, and for this reason there Is long procession reaching down all the time into the valley of shadows. This emigration from time into eterni- ty Is so vast an enterprise that we can- not understand 1t. Every hour we hear the clang of the sepulchral gate. The sod must be broken. The ground must be plowed for resurrection harvest Eternity must be peopled. The dust must press our eyelids. Tt Is appoint ed unto all men once to die" This em- igration from time into eternity keeps three-fourths of the families of the earth in desolation. The air Is rent with farewells, and the black tasseled vehicles of death rumble through every street The body of the child that was folded so closely to the mothers heart Is put away in the cold and the dark ness. The laughter freezes to the girls lip, and the rose scatters. The boy in the harvest field of Shunem says, My head, my headw and they carry him home to die on the lap of his mother. | Widowhood stands with tragedies of | woe struck into the pallor of the cheek. Orphanage cries in vain for | father and mother. Oh, the grave Is | cruel! With teeth of stone 1t clutches | for its prey. Between the closing gates of the sepulcher our hearts are man. gled and crushed.
 God Always Present.
 Is there any earthly solace? None. We come to the obsequies, we sit with | the grief stricken, we talk pathetically | to their soul, but soon the obsequies have passed, the carriages have left us | at the door, the friends who staid for | a few days are gone, and the heart sits | in desolation listening for the little feet | that will never again batter through | the hall or looking for the entrance of | thoSa who will nayor aoma apain sioh- | ing into the darkness, ever and anon | coming across some book or garment or little shoe or picture that arouses for mer association, almost killing the heart; long days and nights of suffer ing that wear out the spirit and ex- punge the bright lines of life and give haggardness to the face and draw the | flesh tight down over the cheek bone and draw dark lines under the sunken | eye, and the hand is tremulous, and the | voice is husky and uncertain, and the | grief Is wearing, grinding, accumulat- ing. exhausting. | Now, what are such to do? Are they merely to look up into a brazen and un- pitying sky? Are they to walk blast ed heath unfed of stream, unsheltered I by overarching trees? Has God turned | us out on the barren common to die? | Oh no, no, no! He has not. He comes l with sympathy and kindness and love. ] He understands all our grief. He sees the height and the depth and the length and the breadth of 1t. He Is the only one that can fully sympathize. Go and ! tell Jesus. Sometimes when we have trouble we go to our friends, and we explain 1t, and they try to sympathize, but they do not understand 1t. They cannot understand 1t. But Christ sees all over 1t and all through 1t. He not only counts the tears and records the | groans, but before the tears started,
 before the games began, Christ saw the inmost hiding place of your sorrow, and he takes 1t, and he weighs 1t, and
 he measures it, and he pities 1t with an
 all absorbing pity. Bone of our bone.
 Flesh of our flesh. Heart of our heart.
 Sorrow of our sorrow. AS long as he
 remembers Lazarus grave he will
 stand by you in the cemetery. AS long
 as he remembers his own heartbreak
 he will stand by you in the laceration
 of your affections. When he forgsts
 the footsore way, the sleepless nights,
 the weary body, the exhausted mind,
 the awful cross, the solemn grave. then
 he will forget you, but not until then. ! Mighty to Save.
 Often when we were in trouble we
 sent for our friends, but they were far
 away. They could not get to us. We
 wrote to them, Come right away" or
 telegraphed, Take the next train"
 They came at last, yet were a great
 while in coming or perhaps were too
 late. But Christ Is always near-before
 you, behind you, within you. No moth
 CT ever threw her arms around her
 child with such warmth and ecstasy of
 affection as Christ has shown toward
 you. Close at hand, nearer than the
 staff upon which you lean, nearer than
 the cup you put to your lip, nearer than
 the handkerchief with which you wipe
 away your tears, I preach him an ever
 present, all sympathizing, compassion
 ate Jesus How can you stay away
 one moment from him with your
 griefs? Go now. Go and tell Jesus. | It Is often that our friends have no
 power to relieve us. They would very
 much like to do 1t, but they cannot dis
 entangle our finances, they cannot cure
 our sickness and raise our dead, but
 glory be to God that he to whom the
 disciples went has all power in heaven
 and on earth, and at our call he will
 balk our calam1ties and at just the
 right time, In the presence of an ap-
 plauding earth and a resounding heay-
 en, will raise our dead. He Is mightier
 than Herod. He Is swifter than the
 storm. He is grander than the sea. He
 is vaster than eternity. And every
 sword of Gods omnipotence will leap
 from it's scabbard and all the resources
 of infinity be exhausted rather than