The Newtown bee., 1901-03-22
but heavy shadows and clouds spread ing athwart the horizon, like massive

OUU 11CdSJ O11dOO"O ullO SlOuNO oplC ing athwart the horizon, like massive shrouds, it seems to Him for moment that even his Heavenly Father has at last deserted Him. In deepest anguish He cries out: My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken mel" And then, He forgets the present, all it's torture, its bleeding wounds, it's cruel cuts and jibes, it's blackness, and even the throes of death already being felt, He forgets the sorrow-ladened present, and looks to the radiant, glorious, promise-bearing future. Ah, how diff feeling it begetS Now let the dark of death itself come on without, what matters it, for all is light within the soul. In exultation, the dying son exclaims "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.'' No longer does he cry out My God, my God, as if addressing pitileSs Sovereign. Rather, with the joy of a restored child nestling in it's parents bosom, He says in perfect confidence, ''Father, I leave myself with thee." It was only as Jesus withdrew his gaze from the immediate present, it's crushing experience, tits overpOwering lcircum- stances, and fixed his thought upon that time when the Fathers action the cOnsummation of His kingdom should be an assured fact, it was only then that the present lost it's depress- ing power, and the spirit of the Son in ecstasy burst the bars of flesh that confined it, and, on joyful pinion, winged it's way to the Fathers throne on high.
 Dear friends, we as church have been called upon since last we met in this room to undergo deepest sorrow. Two of our number; rejoicing in the periods of childhood and early man. hood, have heard a summons, bidding them to leave this world so rich in promise for them, and to take their journey across the dark valley of the shadow of death. Their places in two again, and those faces which we loved to see and greet will be seen by us no more. Those voices, whose cheerful ring was so familiar to us, are forever hushed, and we shall hear their glad tones never again. grieve with you, my people, I suffer with you. With you I raise the question:, Why, o why, was this terrible bereavement neceS- sary? Why should two young people, who had already in their pure, lovable lives, given us such prophecy of ex- ceptional usefulness, why should they be called away, leaving homes so dark, in the midst of our sOrrOWing, above the cries of lamentation, comes voice so soothing, so assuring, so reviving, "What 1 do thou knowest not now: but thou shalt understand hereafter. " Ah-that is it: we are not always to be left with these ghastly question ingS, these gnawing griefs, these un- bearable burdenS these sOmber myS- teries. They are only temporary at the most. Even though we walk in darkness now, we await in confidence the light, and 0, what a glorious light that will be! Though now our knowledge is partial, fragmentary, confused, we expectantly look for knowledge, complete, perfect, satisfy ing. And so we live in hope, 'hOpe that maketh not ashamed"
 The Swiss traveller stands in the early morn ere break of day on some vast mountain height. It is night, but he patiently awaits the dawn. Now he cannot see one step, nor are the points of compass known. Of this only is he assured, soon must come the light. And so confident in this thought, he stands faithful watch man keeping guard. But look, see yOn faint glimmer in the far east! How faint at first it seems, but brighter grows each minute. And now streaks of light flash across the sky from east to west, and are caught by numerous mountain-peakS. These Somber sum- mits are transformed into mighty mounds of gold, as if by some celestial alchemiSt.
 In all directions darkness fees before the brilliance of that increasing light whose rays like trusted messengers in obedience to their solar lord seek out and put to flight all traces of the night, even in the deepest valleys. And still the change goes on. The east is all ablaze with light, and the very tirma- ment seems on fire. The traveller re- mains transtiXed before the divine spectacle. Such resplendence so thrills his soul with WOnderment that he is as one hypnOtiZed by some Overmastering entertainment. And when at last, the spell is broken, and he meditates upon the ineffable beauty and grandeur of what he has witnessed, that night of waiting and watching appears to him a sacrifice so insignificant as to merit no second thought. A hundred such nights were too slight sacrifice for one such pageant of celestial glory.
 Thus is it not with us? We stand in the darkness of this life, one step