Newport weekly independent., 1902-03-28

to make plaster large enough to heal all your wounds? When child is hurt, the mother is very apt to say to it; "Now, it will soon feel better" And that is what God says when he embos- oms all our trouble in the hush of this great promise: ''Wecpin9 may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." You may leave your pocket handkerchief sopping wet with tears on your death pillow, but you will go up absolutely sorrowless. They will wear black, you will wear white; expresses for them, palms for you. You will say: "Is it possible that am here? Is this Heaven? Am I so pure now l will never do anything wrong? Am 1 so we'll that I will never again be sick? Are these companion ships so firm that they will never again be broken? Is that Mary? Is that John? Is that my loved one Iput away into darkness? Can it be that these are the faces of those who lay so wan and emaciated in the back room that awful night dying? Oh, how radiant they are! Look at them! How radi- ant they are! Why, hoy unlike this place is from what 1 thought when l 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, no! It is sunrise! Glorious sun rise! l see the light now purpling the hills, and the clouds flame with the coming day"
 Then the gates of Heaven will be opened, and the entranced soul, with the acuteness and power of the celes- tial vision, will look thousands of miles down upon the bannered procession, river of shimmering splendor, and will cry out: "Who are they?" And tho angel of God, standing close by, will say: "Do you not know who they are"' "No," says the entranced soul, q cannot guess who they are" The angel will say: ''I will tell ycu, then, who they are. These are they whc came out of great tribulation, OF thrashing, and had their robes washed and made white in the blood of the | lamb."
 Would that l could administer some of these drops of celestial anodyne tc 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 trouble. We shall have a great many grand days in Heaven, but 1 will tell you which will be the grandest day of all the million ages of Heaven. You say: Are you sure that you can tell me?" Yes, I can. 1t will be the day we get there. Some say Heaven is growing do not care much about that. Heaven now is good enough for me.
 History has no more gratulatory scene than the breaking in of the Eng fish army upon Lucknow, India. A few weeks before a massacre had occurred at Cawnpur, and 260 women and chil- dren had been put into a room. Then five professional butchers went in and slew them. Then the bodies. of the slain were taken out and thrown into 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 crouched when they died, and they saw also the floor was ankle deep in blood 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 massacre, and the women were waiting for the same awful death, wait ing amid anguish untold, waiting in pain and starvation, but waiting hero ically, when, one day, HavelOck and Outram and Norman and Sir David Baird and Peel, the heroes of the Eng fish army-huzza for them!-broke in on that horrid scene, and while yet the guns were sounding. and while cheers were issuing from the starving, dying people on the one side and from the travel worn and powder blackened sol diers on the other, right there, in front of the kings palace, there was such a scene of handshalling and embracing and boisterous joy as would utterly confound the pen of the poet and the pencil of the painter. And no wonder when these emaciated woman. who had suffered so herocially for Christ's sake marched out from their incarceration, one wounded English soldier got up in his fatigue and wounds and leaned against the wall and threw his cap up aid shouted: "Three cheers, my boys,