Heaven A Locality

Outer space

       I am at a loss to understand why there should be difficulty in receiving the idea of heaven a locality - a fact of materiality, within the domain of physics, equally positive with the existence of Jupiter or Saturn, Venus or Uranus. The telescope, it is most true, has given wondrous revelations of the magnitude and the magnificence of God's glorious universe; but even that has not been able to reveal the secrets of the milky way, nor to calculate the distances of the nearest of the fixed stars, as the astronomer will tell you. But when we come to think, as is most probably true in fact, that with all the wonders thus laid open to our view - and they are most stupendous - we stand as yet but within the vestibule of God's great temple. Like Newton, we saunter along picking up here and there a pebble from the shore, the great ocean of truth meanwhile lying all unexplored beyond us. I doubt not that, could we but see them, as in prophetic vision, we should behold myriads upon myriads of shining orbs peopling the infinitudes of space, and of which the most accurate of all the sciences has not conceived the most remote idea. Inasmuch, then, as we as yet know nothing in comparison of what yet remains to be revealed to the eye of science, how dare we presume to say that the idea of heaven as a locality is a Utopian figment of the imagination - a mere poetic creation? We have picked up a sand or two from the beach, and say these are all there is of them! We have become slightly acquainted with the wonders of this, our own solar universe, and from that premise attempt the impossible feat of proving a negative, predicating the non-existence of any other!

       Most assuredly, since God has found place for the worlds we do see, He is of might sufficient to the finding of room in the vast depths of space for the heaven or heavens which at present we do not see? Rev. W. H. Cooper, D. D.

"The Only Scars In Heaven" sung by Casting Crowns.

Negative and Positive Culture

 will thereby be weeded out:

Negative and Positive Culture
 
Two fields lay side by side. Only a hedge
Which ran athwart the plain dissevered them.
In one my title lay, and he who owned
The other was my brother. Each alike
Had generous part of one ancestral lot.
And each alike due diligence displayed
On that he called his own. At early spring
Each with a shining share upturned the soil
And gave it to the sun, the wind, the shower.
Thenceforth we rested not. Busily we
wrought
And wiped our briny brows 'neath burning
suns,
Biding the time of one far-off event.

At summer's end we each one came at last
To find our recompense. Each had his own,
The end for which he'd toiled. Through all
those days
My only thought had been no weeds should
grow,
But he had plowed 'mid rows of waving corn
And in so doing killed the cumbering weeds
That grew between. And now at summer's
close
Behold ! my field was verdureless and bare.
While his was clad in vestiture of gold.
How vain my toil ! His recompense how
full.
Who reaped so much, yet plowed no more
than I!

Light After Night

 Mary Elliot interprets the moral cheer of recurring dawn in these musical lines:

Dawn of the red, red sun in a bleak, aban-

doned sky

That the moon has lately left and the stars

are fast forsaking--

The day is drawing the cloudy lids from his 

bloodshot eye,

And the world impatient stirs -- a tired old

sleeper, waking.

O most unwearying prophet, ever-returning

morn!

Thou giv'st new life to a world grown old,

and marred in making;

With ever an old faith lost, and ever a

pang new-born,

But ever a new, new hope to hearts that 

were well-nigh breaking. 

The Metropolitan. 1834

Seizing Opportunity

        A plain wreath of oak leaves was sent through the English consul in Berlin in the hope that it might find a place on Mr Gladstone's coffin. The sender was a Berlin shoemaker who owed his success in business to the "Grand Old Man." About twenty years ago this shoemaker came to London and established a small workshop, but in spite of industry and strict attention to business he continued so poor that he had not even enough money to buy leather for work which had been ordered. One day he was in the whispering gallery in St. Paul's cathedral with his betrothed bride, to whom he confided the sad condition of his affairs, and the impossibility of their marriage. The young girl gave him all her small savings, with which he went next day to purchase the required leather, without, however, knowing that he was followed by a gentleman commissioned to make inquiries about him. The shoemaker was not a little surprised when the leather merchant told him that he was willing to open a small account with him. In this way did fortune begin to smile upon him, and soon, to his great astonishment, he received orders from the wealthiest circle in London society, and his business became so well established that he was able to marry and have a comfortable home of his own. He was known in London for years as the "Parliament Shoemaker," but only when, to please his German wife, he left London for Berlin, did the leather merchant tell him that he owed his " credit account " to none other than Mr. Gladstone. The Prime Minister had been in the whispering gallery when the poor shoemaker had been telling his betrothed of his poverty, and owing to the peculiar acoustics of the gallery had heard every word that had been said. This story suggests not only how Mr. Gladstone's wide-reaching influence was helped by his seizing upon the smallest opportunities to do good, but also that the house of God is always a whispering gallery; and tho no prime minister of earth may hear us as we breathe out our sorrows there, the Prime Minister of heaven will never fail to hear and heed. 

"There Was Jesus." sung by Zach Williams and Dolly Parton

God Gives Us A New Chance

Ella Higginson, under the title "When the Birds Go North Again," sings a pretty little song of hope, illustrating the goodness of God in giving to the saddest heart a new chance for blessing and achievements.

Oh, every year hath its winter,
And every year hath its rain -
But a day is always coming
When the birds go north again;

When new leaves swell in the forest,
And grass springs green on the plain,
And the alder's veins turn crimson‚-
And the birds go north again.

Oh, every heart hath its sorrow,
And every heart hath its pain -
But a day is always coming
When the birds go north again.

'Tis the sweetest thing to remember
If courage be on the wane,
When the cold, dark days are over -
Why, the birds go north again.