od bySgoanoke Publishing Co.
."FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY -AND FOR TRUTH."
W. Ft-tiTCHEB A US BON, EDITOR,
C V. W. 'AtiSBON, BOSINF"!,') MANAGER.
VOL IV.
PLYMOUTH, N. C, FRIDAY, MAY 20, 1892
NO 1.
A
JUST BE CLADl
Dh, htart of mine, wo shouldn't
Worry sot I
k What we've missed of ralirfl we couldn't
Have you know!
iiat we've met of stormy fain, . t
nd of sorrow's driving rain,
e can better meet again
If it blow.
! nave erreci in mat aartt lour.
We have known,.
!n the tears fell wlin'the shower
AH alone'
i not shine and sorrow blent
e gracious Master meant
; temper our content
With His own.
know not every sorrow
Can be sad
letting all the sorrow
We have hart, .
lid amy our fears
; by our foolish tear?,
rmeh all tf3 coming veil's
James Whitcomb Riley.
;ar old goose.
V
ACK FURNIVAL
v was a popd man to
Know.ri (u want-
Vs he'd
u ed ten J 1
i
8ermons, whiob. she certainly would not
have been able to do had Miss Halleck;
been in her rooms.
Gradually the girl altered. She be
came less careless and boisterous. She
ceased to tease Furnival and was still
and mouse-like wheu there was no ne
cessity so far as his work was concerned.
Then she ceased to "como down to his
rooms unasked. He tried to treat that
as a joke, and sent an ironically formal
letter asking to have the pleasure of her
compariy to tea. She took the note in
all seriousness and came sharp to the
time ha had appointed, looking pale and
a little frightened, as though she ex
pected to, be charged with some fault,
and it needed a rather embarrassing ex
planation to make her understand that
the formality was a joke.
All tms troubled Jack not a little,
and he tried to get at the reason of her
altered manners and ways. Had she
received bad news from Canada? No.
Was she) getting homesick? No. Did
she sigh ; to see her old friends again?
No ; she had no old friends, and the city
was the dearest place in all the world to
her.
to get any satisfactory expla
in the old woman, Furnival
old woman when Miss Halleck
out for a walk latterly she
n into tne naoit or waiting out
thout hinting at the object of
. Failin
nation f
(tried th
had son
find fall
i
1
s
1
f
I received a letter from
lus:
I
J
m
about to Dftv the treat
iappilv it is the only one
inpaid. xou lent me
ie never forgotten your
compantive stranger.
Df affectionate remem-
to appoint you sole
who will coma on to
under the sod. Adieu
htf ur friend.
rtoBEBT Halleck.
not surprise Jack
J accustomed to find-
r to men who could
to put their affairs
e up tneir arrears.
it ss nim wnen some
tall young woman of
uts walked into his
need herself as the
ck, and his ward.
with bis ward ?
ed Jack Furnival
young lady was
pping the coffee
v,ely put before
u send to school,
ough to put in an
rdian it was his
didn't get into
he rest secure if
fresh, innocent,
as she out of
at length in
above his own
is, had them
fss Halleck in
I to wait upon
who was rec-
dclen icspectable
A
jbleto keePwMiss
to retain a bird
r is left open.
of his dressing
i found her in his
Idn't get her out
liy necessary to
f hat she was not
had work to do
silent that he
that she was in
hm of her bright
big chair, where
selected at his
iiever stirred till
-work was done.
Xof children had
school. She
sound; she :
Vacc with
-craps of
tful to
that it
Wld of
He
sut a
'ke,
Y
taking the old woman out of her
loirs, he asked her straicrhtlv what
the matter with her young lady.
.or , sir I don t you taKe any notice
jt," said the duenna with a cunning
ber puckered eyes, '"lain't
but what she'll grow out of.
oung gal's like that when she
s in love."
ival saw it all clearly enough
Her silence her solitude seekinsr
C7
unexplained promenades all were
y enough accounted for by the fact
he girl had found some young fel-
love. It was all nattftM enough,
rmfehow, Furnival wa notWtisfied.
m0Ktmmmmtmma' . . .1. ...
iUTTiaiw now inevitable te mK
fWt exnect her to keerMiways
'id for my amusement," thought
itty," said he one day, "I've foSLd
iur secret."
hat secret?" she gasped, sinking?
chair, trembliusr and white. S
on't be. friehtened. mv child," he
drawing his chair to her side; "wo
been brought into the relation of
ter and daughter, and all the tender-
iess a daughter commanns irom ner
father I hope you will find in me."
"Yes, yes, yes."
"The secret I've found out is not a
very dreadful one. You are in love."
She covered hi scarlet cheeks with
her hands, and presently mustering up
her courage, she said
"Yes, I am in love."
"Well, if the young fellow is worthy
of your love, I cannot object to that.
The only possible harm would be in your
loving some one who was undeserving."
"Oh, he is the best best 'young
fellow' in the world."
"That is just the one thing which is
open to question. Your judgment can
scarcely be -trusted in such a matter, and
so I must beg you to let me act for you.
Believe me, I shall be indulgent. Come,
tell me his name."
"I can't."
"What, he has told you that he loves
you, and not let you kDOw his name?"
"He hasn't told me that he loves me."
"Good heavens, Kitty? Then you
don't know if this fellow loves you at
all?"
.MOh, I'm nearly certain he loves me."
"But does he know that you love
him?"
"I don't think that he does. There's
the difficulty, you see. If I could only
let him know that I love him, I think it
would be all right."
Furnival was silent before this marvel
of ingenuous simplicity.
"Well, what do you propose to do,
Kitty?" he asked, after a pause.
"I don't know, quite. You see, I
should die of shame if I made any ad
vance and he misconstrued it, or did not
respond as I should like him to do."
"Oh, I understand your delicacy, my
dcar'-Jd."
I so I have rather avoided giving
him Y testimony of my affection than
make ft known to him. But we can't
go on 'ike that forever, can we?"
"Nt if you want to get married,"
said Furnival, with a laugh.
"And so I thought that perhaps the
ht thini? I could do would be to write
to him-only I don't quite know how to
begin. Can you nelp mer
"I'll try, though it's a precious diffi
cult job for an old bachelor to tackle.
However,we'll make the attempt. Here s
a scrap of paper." (He took an old cn
velone from his pocket, tore it open and
spread it on his card-case). "Now, how
shall we begin? better eay 'sir'-there's
no knowing what he is-may be the big
gest blackguard under the sun."
"I don't think he Is," said Miss Hal
leck, in parenthesis.
"Ten to one ho is, though!" said Fur
nival, under his breath, and perhaps at
t the wish was father to the
thought. "Well, there we are 'sir'
now, what's to come nexU
Miss Halleck hid her face in her hands
a"ain, was silent a mm, find t'--.
murmuro tremblingly, "I love y-M.'' f
"Well," said Furnival at length, '.'if
it must bolet me see, what did you
say?"
"I love you."
"I love you,' there it is. What
next?"
"Why that's all."
"That's all?" ,
"What else is there to say? If he
dones't love me when he reads that "
Miss Halleck finished tho sentence with
a sigh.
"Funniest letter I've ever written,"
thought Furnival. "But, Kitty," he
said, "what's the use of this letter now
it's written? We don't know the fellow's
name."
Miss Halleck snatched the paper out
of his hand, threw it into the hearth and
made for the door. Amazed at this out
burst of temper Furnival ran after her
and caught her.
"I beg you won't bo angry with me,"
he implored. "You don't know hdw
deeply I feel in this affair, dear. You
said you couldn't tell mo his name "
She hesitated a moment and then in
desperation cried
"I can't tell you his name; but isn't it
written on the back of the letter you
have been making such a muddle over,
you dear old goose ? "
Furnival glanced at the scrap of papar
in the hearth. The envelope had turned
over and he saw his own name and ad
dress. '
Then he went down on his knees and
made himself more than ever a "dear
old goose."
Rough Diamonds and Polished.
Twenty years ago the trade in rough
diamond? was under $5,000,000 a year;
it is now $25,000,000. The price for
assorted trade lots of fine, to superior
quality has declined from $25 to $15 per
carat. Fair to medium go at about $10
and lower grades from $5 down. Ameri
cans are pronounced tho best judges of
diamonds as well as by far the largest
buyers. They are expected to take this
year over $15,000,000 worth, or some
two-thirds of the world's total product.
The Chinese and Japanese have entered
the market only of recent years. Rus
sians carry off the finest of the highly
esteemed bright yellow diamonds.
When the Brazilian mines were opened
it was' said that they produced no dia
monds equal to the best of those from
the mines in the Indian Deccan. This
.was not true. After the Cape mines io
l&outh Africa were opened the same thing
was repeated of them. It Js2yjjt.taua "
T)MlBffsden6itasitj'tff'tile first water have
always been scarce, and perhaps always
will be, but those of this quality do not
differ, whether they come from India,
Brazil, or the Cape. The production of
Cape diamonds is restricted now by a
trust, the De Beers Consolidated
Mines, which produces nearly $17,000,
000 out of the '.vhole $20,000,000 worth
from South Africa.
It is ascertained that the diamond '
ground is the filling of old volcanio
craters. It came up from below bringing
the diamonds already crystallized. The
diamond crystal is eight-sided or bcto
bedron, two square pyramids united by
their bases. When cut as a brilliant the
stone should have sixty-four facets. A
broad plane uppermost is called the
"table," which admits the light, which,
passing downward, strikes against one of
the facets below the "girdle," or junc'
tion of the two pyramids; it rebounds
like a billiard ball from the cushion from
this facet to the facet parallel with it
above the girdle, and thus the play of
light is increased by the cutting. There
are "pavilions," "skill" and "star"
facets; and according to their number
the brilliant is described as single or
double cut. A rose diamond, such a)
may be worked into fancy forms, is so
called because it resembles an opening
rosebud. It has served since 1820 to
make use of diamonds which are too
shallow to be cut into brilliants, for they
have flat bases, instead of theculet apex,
and the hemisphere on top is covered
with small facets. New York Sun. ,
Autographic Plaques.
The girls have a new fad now. It is
called the "autograpgic plaque." Like
all fads, it has swept tho homes of th
young women like wildfire, and has oc
casioned no end of sharp comment by
members of the sterner sex who havo
been mulcted of dimes.
The "autographic plaque" is an in
genious device of a china firing concern.
and its purpose is financial gam for this
establishment, rieces 01 cardboard, lux
10 inches in size, are distributed where
they are likely to meet with a favorable
reception. These pieces of card contain
a f irele in the centre a reserved space
laie enough for a reproduced photo-
grtph. From the circumference of this
ciole extend lines to a larger circle, lik
spykes in a wheel from tho hub to the
tit?. The spaces between these lines are
tJ autographs.
ThAi-n am riftv such suaces.and it has
blen declared the proper thing for a girl
t "et the autograpns 01 nuy or net
We friends written within them. An
written law in this fad decrees that
'ich autogranli writer must produce a
'ime with his signature. When all the
hn snurns am full and each name paid
for, the girl has $5, and this $5, if sent
f. arovtain niar,e with tne cara ana a
hnfmrrnnh of the owner, will secure a
with the oicture and au
RE?. DR. TALMAGE.
-
The Eminent Brooklyn Divine's Sun.
day Sermtn.
Subject; "The Resurrection."
Text; "Surely the bitterness of death i
past.' I Samuel xv., 32.
So cried Agag, and the onW objection I
Pave J this text is that a bad man uttered
Nevertheless it is true, and in a higher
and better sense than that in which it wa
originally uttered. Year ago a legend
something like this was told me: In a hut
lived a very poor woman by the name of
Misery. In front of her door was a pear tree,
which was her only resource for a living.
Christ, the Lord, in poor garb was walking
through the earth and no oue would enter
tain Him. "In vain He knocked at the door
of palaces and of humble dwellings. Cold
and hungry and insufficiently clad, as He
was, none received Him. But coming one
day to the hut ot this woman, whose name
was Misery, she received Him, and offered
Him a few crusts and asked Him to warm
Himself at the handful of coals, And she sat
up aU night tbat the wayfarer might have
a pillow to rest on.
In the morning this divine being asked her
as He departed what she would have Him do
in the way of reward, and told her that He
owned the universe and would give her what
she asked. All she asked was that her pear
tree might be protected, and that the ooys
who stole fcer fruit, once climbing the tree,
might not be able to get down without her
consent. 80 it was granted, and all who
climbed the tree were compelled to stay
there. After awhile Death came along and
101a ine poor woman sne must go witn nlm.
But she did not want to ao. for. however
Eoor one's lot is, no one wants to go with
leath. '1 hen she said to Death, "1 will go
with you if you will first climb up into my
pear tree and bring me down a few peart
before I start." This he consented to do.
but having climbed into the tree he could
not again come down.
Then the troubles of the world began, for
Death did not come. The physicians had no
patients, the undertakers no business, law
yers no wills to make, the people who waited
for inheritances could not get them, the old
men staid in all the professions and occupa
tions so that there was no room for the
young who were coming on, and the earth
got overcrowded, and from all the earth the
cry went up: "Oh, for Death! Where is
Death!" Then the people came to the poor
woman and begped her to let Death descend
from the tree. In sympathy for the world,
she consented to let Death comedown on one
condition, and that was that he should never
molest or take her away, and on that condi
tion Death was allowed to come down, and
he kept his word and never removed her.
and for that reason we always have Misery,
with us. , '-
In that allegory someone has rr. forth the
truth that 1 mean to present sa this Easter
morning, which celeJvates.Jhe resurrection
of Christ and our omingresurrection that
one of the grpy tfest and mightiest mercies
o the eartfris our divine permission to auit
It '.SHx.ff-four persons every minute step
off this planet. Thirty million people every
year board this planet. As a steamer must
unload before it takes another cargo, and as
the passengers of a rail train must leave it
in order to have another company of passen
gers enter it, so with this world.
What would happen to an ocean steamer
if a man, taking a stateroom, should stay in
it forever What would happen to a rail
train if one who purchases a ticket should
always occupy the seat assigned him? And
what would happen to this world if all who
came into it never departed from it? The
prave is as much a benediction as the cradle.
What sunk that ship in the Black Sea a few
days ago? Too many passengers. What
was the matter with that steamer on the
Thames which, a few years ago, went do"n
with 600 lives? Too many passengers. Now
this world is only a sbjp, which was launched
some six thousand years ago. It is sailing
at the rate of many thousand miles an hour.
It is freighted with mountains and cities,
and has in its staterooms and steerage about
sixteen hundred million passengers. So
many are coming aboard, it is necessary thai
1 good many disembark.
Suppose that all the people that have
lived since the days of Adam and Eve were
ttll alive. What a cluttered up place this
world would be no elbow room no place
to walk -no privacy nothing to eat or
wear, or if anything were left the human
race would, like a shipwrecked crew, have
to be put on small rations, each of us having
perhaps onlv a biscuit a day. And what
chance would there be for the rising genera
tions? 'The men and women who started
when the world started would keep the
modern people back and down, saying:
"We are six thousand years old. Bow
down. History is nothing, for we are older
than history." What a mercy for the hu
man race was death I Within a few years
vou can get from this world all there is in
it.
After you have had flf tv or sixty or sev
enty springtimes, you have seen enough
blossoms. After fifty or sixty or seventy
autumns you have seen enough of gorgeous
foliage. After fifty or sixty or seventy
winters, you have seen enough snowstorms
and felt enough chills and wrapped yourself
in enough blankets. In the ordinary length
of human life you have carried enough bur
dens, and shed enough tears, and suffered
enough injustices, and felt enough pangs,
tad been clouded by enough doubts, and
surrounded by enough mysteries. We talk
bout the shortness of life, but if we exer
cised good sense we would realize that life is
luite long enouzh.
It we are the children of Uod we are at a
banquet, and this world is only the first
jourse of the food, and we ought to be glad
that there are other and better and richer
sourses of food to be handed on. We are
here in one rooja of our Father's house, but
there are rooms up stairs. They are better
pictured, better upholstered, better fur
nished. Why do we want to stay in the
anteroom forever, when there are palatial
apartments waiting for our occupancy?
W hat a mercy that there is a limitation to
earthly environments!
Death also makes room for improved
jhycal machinery . Our bodies have won
drous powers, but they are very limited.
Tbre are beasts that can outrun us, outlift
us, outcarry us. The birds have both the
earth and air for travel, yet we must stick
to the one. In this world, which the human
mi-a inL-oa fni it.i nwn there are creaturea !
of God that mn far surpass us in some
things. Dea' removes this slower and less
adroit machinery and makes room for some
thing bett'T . These eyes that can see half
a mile will be removed for those that can
see from world to world. These ears,'
whlcbcan hear a sound a few feet off, will
be rafnoved for ears that can hear from
MM to .one. These feet will be removed
for rnwr ot locomotion swiiter tnan tne
reinrlcrr's hoof or eugle' plume of lightn
ing's' tlfthll. mmm in
can do for us. God did not half try when
he contrived your bodily mechanism. Mind
you, I believe with all anatomists and with
ail physiologists and with all scientists and
with the psalmist that "we are fearfully and
wonderfully made." But I believe and I
know that God can and will get us better
physical equipment.
Is it possible for a man to make improve
ment in almost anything and God not be
able to make improvements in man's physi
cal machinery? Shall canal boat give way
to limited express train? Shall slow letter
give place to telegraphy, that places San
Francisco and New York within a minute of
communication? Shall the telephone take
the sound of a voice sixty miles and Instant
ly bring back another voice, and God, who
made the man who does these things, not be
lable to improve the man himself with infl
(nite velocities and infinite multiplication?
iBeneficent Death comes in and makes the
necessary removal to make wa7 for these
supernatural improvements. So also our
slow process of getting information must
have a substitute.
Through prolonged stady we learned the
alphabet, and then we learned to spell, and
then we learned to read. Then the book is '
put before us and the eye travels from word
to word and from Daire to
whole days to read the book, and if from
that book o" four or five hundred pages we
have gained one or two profitable ideas we
feel we have done well. There must be
some swifter way and more satisfactory
way of taking in God's universe of thouzhts
and facte and emotions and information. .
But this cannot be done with ypur brain in
lt present state. Many a brain gives way
uuuer me presanc laciaay. This whitish
mass in the upper cavity f the skull and at
the extremity of the nervous system this
center of perception and sensation cannot
endure more than it now endures.
But God can make a better brain, and He
sends Death to remove this inferior brain
hj H may put in a superior brain.
''Well," you say, "does not that destroy the
idea of a resurrection of the present body?"
Oh, no. It will be the old factory with new
machinery new driving wheel, nw bands,
new levers and new powers. . Don't you see?
So I suppose the dullest human brain after
the resurrectionary process will have more
knowledge, more acute ness. more brilliancy,
mora breadth of swing than any Sir William
Hamilton or Herschel or Isaac Newton or
Faraday or Agassis ever had in the mortal
state or all their intellectual powers com
bined. You see God has only just begun to
build you. The palace of your nature has
only the foundation laid and part of the
lower story, and only part of one window,
but the great architect has made His draft
of what you wiU be when the Alhambra is
completed.
John was right when he saH, ,'Ti--ik
not yet appear what w5 sfesAY 'as? Blessed
uo um,u 1 ior ir-r-movBs ail the hindrances
dying clouds the Harmonies that shall wakt . .
Van dsad. . .
By. the empty niche of Joseph's rtpausa- V
leum, by the rocks that parted to tot the
Lord come through. Jet our ideas of chang-.
Ing worlds be forever revolutionuad'. If
what I have been saying is true bodf dif
ferently we ought to think of our friends
departed. The body they have put oil is
only a?, when entering a hall lighted and
And who- M not all) his life run against
hindrances? We cannjot go far up or far
devro. I If we go far up) we Ret dizzy, and if
we go fhr down we get suffocated. If men
would o high up they ascend the Matterhorn
or Mouiut Blanc or Hinpalaya, but what dis
aster Ijiave been reported as they came
tumbling down. , Or If j thev went dawn to?
far, harV to the explosioln of the firedamps,
and see the disfigured i bodies of the poor
miners a the bottom of the coal shaft.
Then there are the blimtolo;ical hin
drances. J -We run a?inst nnpropitious
weather ht all sorts. Winter blizzird and
summer uoorch, and each season seems to
hatch a lbrood of its own disorders- The
summer sjpreads its wings) and hatches out
fever ankl sunstrokes. and spring and
autumn sjpread their wirigs and batch out
malarias, luid winter spreads its wings and
hatches Oh t pneumonia arid Russian grippes,
and the climate of this world is a hindrance
which every man and woman and child has
(elt. ' Death is to the goojd transference to
superior weather weather never fickle, and
never too cold, and never too hot, and never
too light, and never too daik . Have you any
doubt that God can- makti better weather
than is characteristic of tbiis planet? Blessed
is death I for it prepares ths way for change
of zone, yea, it clears tha path to a semiora
nipresence. 1
How often we want to be in different places
at the same time! How perplexed we get
being compeMed to choose netweaa inviti
tions, between weddings, between friendly
groups, between three or our placss we
would Jike to be in the same (nornin j or the
same noon or; the same evening. While death
may not open opportunity to ba in many
places at the-same time, so ea sy and so qttick
snd so instantaneous will be tpa transference
that it will amount to about jhe same tain j.
Quicker than I can speak this sentence you
will be among your glorious kindred, amon
the martyrs, aipongtae apostlfas, in the gate,
on the battlements, at the tedf ole, and now
from world to world as soon a a robin hops
from one tree branch to another tree branch.
Distance r? hindrance. Immensity easily
compassed. SomiomnipresencI
"Bait," says some one, "I canpot see how
God-is going to reconstruct mj body in the
resurrection." Oh, that will be very easy as
compared with what Be has already done
wiljb your body four or six or ten times. All
scientists tell is thit the human body
changes entirely once in saven years, so that
if you are twenty-eight years pf age you
have now yout fourth body. It you are
forty -two yearslof age you have had six
bodies. It you Ire seventy years of age you
have had ten bellies. Do you not, my un
believing friend J think if God could budd
for vou four or ve or ten bodies: He could
really build for ion one more to be called j
the resurrection body. Aye! to make that
resurrection Ixxir will not require half as ;
much ingenuity Aid power as tho.se other
ad, is it not easier ior a
statue out of silent clay I
make a statue out of !
p is alive and moving, and
thither? 1
sier for God to make the
lit of the silent dust of
than it was to make your !
x or eight times while it
king, climbing, falling or
'aay on your lour or nve
times more omnipotence
m the resurrection body.
ie foundation for the
1 us now. Surgeons and
liere are parts of the
is of which they t cannot
re searching wnt these
nit have not found out.
Ty are the preliminaries
idy, God does nek make
. The nses of thote now
body will be qemon-
Vifled form is construe
bodies you hav
sculptor to mai l
than it would 11
some material
running hitho
Will it not
resurrection !
the crumblec!
body over fl'
was in mottl
rising? God
bodies besto'l
than He wilK
Yea, we '
resurrectioi
physiologist
human boc
understanc;)
rirts are r
can tell
of the reef
anything i
surplus pi
ttrated wht
ted, I
Now, if 1
why paint
him the ki i
as m grea f
skeleton a I
of dark
frightenerf
goto be:
teeth cha'f'
band thel
have bf'v,
a Via fiw nil U tr
f hobgoblin? Wtfycall
I s? Wny think d
i' MJ nc-u uma
nJ standing on al
Vhf have childrl
Mtha6they dari
him
with
lank
r.l so
1 not
ie shortness of brftuh
. ni.mutfirt All t.hnH ..
' n, hur"
old men have
resounding with muueal bands. tvon leave
your hat and cloak in the cloakroom. What
would a banqueter do if he had to carry
those encumbrances of apparel with him in-
to the brilliant reception? What would your
departed do with their bodies if they bad to
be encumbered with them in the Wig;
drawing room? Gone Into the light j'on
into the music! done into the festivity?
Gone among kings and queens atd co n
querors ! Gone to meet Elijah and bear hi l 1
tell of the chariot of Are drawn by horses of
fire and the sensation of mounting the sa p
phire steeps! Gone to meet with Moses and
hear him describe the pile of black basalt
that shook when the law was given ! ' ' Gone
to meet Paul and bear him tell how Felix
trembled, and how the ship went to pieces
in the breakers, and how thick was the
darkness in the Mamertine dungeon I . Gone
to meet John Knox and John Wesley and
Hannah More and Francis Havergal. Gone
to meet the kindred who preceded thetn I
Why 1 should not wonder if they had
larger family group there than they ever
had here. Oh, how many of tlwm have got
together again! Your father and mother;
went years apart, but- they have got to- ;
gether, and their children that ; went '
years ago got together again.. Gon
where they have more room? Gone
where they . have more ' jubilant so
ciety! Gone where they have mightier
capacity to love you than when they wera
here! Gone out of hindrances into un
. bounded li berty ! Gone out of January into
June! Gone where tbey talk about you a
we always talk about absent friend a nrl
say: "I wonder when they will come up hers
to join us. Hark ! the outside door of heaven
swings open. Hark! there are feet on the
golden stairs. Perhaps tbey are coming !"
I was told at Johnstown aftwr .the flood
that many people who had been for months
and years bereft for the first time got com- .
fort when the awful flood came to think than .
their departed ones were not present to se
the catastrophe. As the people were float
ing down on the housetops, they said; "Ob.
how glad 1 am that father and mother aro
not here," or "How glad I am that the chil
dren are not alive to see this horror f And "
ought not we who are down here amid thn .
upturnines of this life be clad that none of ;
the troubles which submerge us can ever
affright our friends ascended? -
Before this I warrant our departed ones
have been introduced to all the celebrities of
heaven. Some one has said to them: . "Let
jflo"1 mtroduce you to Joshua, the man who
bv ofayer stopped two worlds for several
hours. Iiti me make you asSuJ
tms eroun 01 aree neroes donn nus
Philip Mt'Iancthon and Martin Luther.
Aba ! here is Fenelon ! Here is Archbishop
Leightonl Here are Latimer and Ridley!
Here is Matthew Simpson ! Here is poet's
row James Montgomery and Anna Bar
bauld and 'Horatius Bonar and Pbcebs
Palmer and Lowell Mason." .
Were your departed ones fond of music?
What oratoris led on by Handel and Hay
den. Were tbey fond of pictures ? What
Raphaels pointing out skies with all colors
wrought out Into chariot wheels, wings of
seraphim and coronations. Were they fond
of poetry? What eternal rhythms led on by
John Milton. Shall we pity: our glorified
kindred? No; they had better pity us. Wo,
the shipwrecked aiyd on a raft in the hurri
cane, looking up at them Bailing on over
calm sees, under skies that never frowned
with tempests, we hoppled with chains; they
lifted by wings, "purely the bitterness of
death is past.
Further, if what 1, have been saying is
true, we should trust the Iiord and h
thrilled with the fact, that our own day of
escape cometh. If ourv lives were going to
end when our hearts ceased to pulsate and
our lungs to breathe, I would want to take
ten million years of lif0 here for tha flrs
installment. But, my Christian friends, w
cannot afford always to stay down in th
cellar of our Father's housed We canooti
always be postponing the best things. We
cannot always be tuning oir violins for the
celestial orchestra. We most get our wings
out. We must mount. WW cannon afford
always to stand out here in the vestibule of
the house of many mansions, t. while the
windows are illuminated with the levea f
angelic, and we can hear the laugh
ter of those forever freje, v and t he
ground . quakes with the hounding
feet of those who have entered npon eternal
play. Ushers of heaven t Oper the gates! ,
Swing them clear back on their pearly
hinges! Let the celestial music Tfrin us
its cadence. Let the hanging pi -the
king breath on us their' aroraak
our reaesraed ones just look out
us one glance of their glorified f ae ther
they are now ! I see them, pi
not stand the vision . Close the gatt t
eyes will be quenched with the over pc
brightness. , Hold back the song or oi
will never again care for earthly at
Withdraw the perfume or we shall sw
the fragrance that human nostrils was
made to breath.
All these thoughts are suggested
stand this Easter morn' amid the brck
rocks of the Saviour's tomb. Indeed, I kn
that tomb has aot been rebuilt, for I stood
December of 1833 amid the ruins of thatth ,
most famous aeDUtcher of a.11 timn Than.
and Tiiirpl Hill nnri Mnmnfc inhnpttf'
mnm nolishfrl stnnn and ronrs BlnKnriT 1
sonry and more foliage surroundiogsK
l went down the steps ot the supposed :
of Christ on my return from Mount Call
I said to myself: "ihisis'.he tomb r
tombs. Around this stand more stuper
mciaents tnan around any grave or al
world since death entered it. "
I could not breathe easily for overmi
ing emotions as I walked down the
crumbling steps till ve came abreast of V
niche in which I think Christ was buried, .
measured the sepulcher and found it four
teen and a half feet long, eight feet high,
nine feet wide. It is a ' family tomb and
seems to have been built to hold five bodies. -
But I rejoice to say that the tomb ws
empty, and that the door of the rock was
gone, and the sunlight streamed in. The
day that Christ ro and came forth the
sepulcher was demolished forever, and no
trowel of earthly masonry can ever rebuild
it. f
And the rupture ot thoise rocks, and tta
snap of that Governmental seal, and th'
crash of those wa.'la of limestone, and t1i
step of the lacerated but triumphant foot
of the risen Jesus we to-day coiebrato wiih
aej aim ot worshiping thousands, while with
ihe nations of Christendom, nd
log hosts of heaven we chnnt.
pt risen from the dead and lw
its of them that .lcv' "
'Vw-eep no more t"it r
4 w rnnrrxlnrfvl and fired. ,