The age-herald., 1902-03-30

pend upon 1t that God will keep upon you the staff or the rod or the iron wheel until you do let go.
 Another thing my text teaches us is that Christian sorrow is going to have a sure terminus. My text says Bread corn is bruised because he will not ever be thrashlng it." Blessed be God for that! Pound away, o fielii Turn on, o wheel Your work will soon be done. He will not ever be thrashing it!' Now the Christian has almost much use in the organ for the stop tremulant as he has for the trumpet but after awhile he will put the last dirge into the portfolio for ever. So much of us as is wheat will be separated from so much as Is chaff, and there will be no more need of pounding They never cry in heaven because they have nothing to cry about. There are no tears of bereavement for ycu shall have your friends all around about you There are no tears of poverty because each one sits at the Kings table and has his own chariot of salvation and free access to the wardrobe where princes get their ar- ray. No tears of sickness. for there are no pneumonias in the air and no malarial calculations from the rolling river of life and no crutch for the lame limb and no splint for the broken arm. but the pulses throbbing with the health of the eternal God in a climate like our June before the blossoms fall or our gor- geous October before the leaves scat ter.
 The Cure For the Souls Wounds
 In that land the souls will talk over the different modes of thrashing. Oh, the story of the staff that struck the ftches and the rod that beat the cummin and the iron wheel that went over the corn Daniel will describe the lions and Jonah hn el xkypfr with which he was scourged, and Eve will tell how aromatic Eden was the day she left it, and John Rogers will tell of the smart of the flame and Elijah of the fiery team that wheeled him up the sky steeps and Christ of the numbness and paroxysms and hemorrhages of the aw- full crucifixion. There they are before the throne of God-on one elevation all those who were struck of the rod, on the high est elevation and amid the highest alti- tudes of heaven all those who were un-
 der the wheel. He will not ever be thrash
 ing it.
 Is there not enough salve in this text
 to make a plaster large enough to heal
 all yours wounds? When a child Is hurt, the mother IS very apt to say to it, Now
 1t will soon feel better" And that is
 what God says when he embosoms all
 our trouble In the hush of this great
 promise, Weeping may endure for a
 night, but joy cometh in the morning."
 You may leave your pocket handker-
 chief sopping wet with tears on your
 death pillow, but you will go up absolute ly sorrowless. They will wear black. you
 will wear white; expresses for. them,
 palms for you. You will say: "Is it pos-
 sible that I am here? Is this heaven? Am
 l so pure now I will never do anything
 wrong?Am I so well that I will never
 again be sick? Are these companionships so firm that they will never again be
 broken? Is that Mary? Is that John? Is.
 that my loved one I put away into dark
 nessY Can it be that these are the faces
 or those who lay so wan and emaciated
 in the back room that awful night dy- ing. Oh, how radiant they are! Look at them How radiant they arel Why how unlike this place is from what I
 thought when 1 left the world below
 Ministers drew pictures of this land, but how tame compared with the reality! They told me on earth that death was sunset. No, mol It is sunrise! Glorious
 sunrise! I see the light now purpling the hills, and the clouds flame with the com ing day"
 | Then the gates of heaven will be open | ed, and the entranced soul with the acuteness and power of the celestial vis- ion, will look thousands of miles down upon the bannered procession, a river of shimmering splendor, and will cry out ''Who are theyY' And the angel of
 God standing close by, will say. Do you not know who they are?' No" says
 the entranced soul, "I cannot guess who
 they are." The angel will say: q will
 tell you, then, who they are. These are
 they who came out of great tribuIation.
 or thrashing, and had their robes washed and made white in the blood of the lamo.'' Would that I could administer some of these drops of celestial anodyne to
 these nervous and excited souls. If you
 would take enough of it, it would cure
 all your bangs. The thought that you
 are going to get through with this after
 awhile, all this sorrow and all this trou-
 ble. We shall have a great many grand
 days in heaven, but I will tell you which
 will be the grandest day of all the mill
 lion ages of heaven. Your say, Are you
 sure you can tell me?' Yes I can It
 will be the day we get there. Some say
 heaven is growing more glorious I sup
 pose it is but I do not care much about
 that. Heaven now is good enough for me.
 Triumphant End of Misfortunes. History has no more gratulatory scene
 than the breaking in of the English army upon Lucknow, India. A few weeks be- fore a massacre had occurred at Cawn- pur and 260 women and children had been put in a room. Then five professional butchers went in and slew them Then
 the bodies of the slain were taken out
 and thrown into a well. As the English
 army came into Cawnpur they went into the room, and, oh, what horrid scene! Sword strokes on the wall near the floor, showing that the poor things had crouch ed when they died, and they saw also | that the floor was ankle deep in blood. l The soldiers walked on their heels across | it. lest their shoes be submerged of the | carnage. And on that floor of blood there | were flowing locks of hair and fragments | of dresses.
 | Out in Lucknow they had heard of the l massacre, and the women were waiting l for the same awful death, waiting amid anguish untold, waiting in pain and
 starvation, but waiting heroically, when | one day, Havelock and Outram and Nor | man and Sir David Baird and Peel, the heroes of the English army-huzza for them!-broke in on that horrid scene, and
 while yet the guns were sounding and
 while cheers were issuing from the starv- ing, dying people on the one side and from the travel worn and powder black ened soldiers on the other, right there in front of the kings palace there was | such a scene of handshaking and en- bracing and boisterous joy as would ut terly confound the pen of the peot and the pencil of the painter. And no won der, when these emaciated women, who