brecho cheapchic

The portrait of Dante is painted on the walls of the Bargello, at Florence. For many years it was supposed that the picture had utterly perished. Men had heard of it but no one living had ever seen it. But presently came an artist who was determined to find it again. He went into the place where tradition said that it had been painted. The room was used as a storeroom for lumber and straw. The walls were covered with dirty whitewash. He had the heaps of rubbish carried away, and patiently and carefully removed the whitewash from the wall. Lines and colors long hidden began to appear, and at last the grave, lofty, noble face of the great poet looked out again upon the world of light.

"That was wonderful," you say; "that was beautiful!" Not half so wonderful as the work which Christ came to do in the heart of man-- to restore the forgotten image of God and bring the divine image to the light.

"There's another side," said the minister's wife softly.

"How do you know?" asked the visitor who had told the discreditable little tale strictly in confidence, as she herself had learned it in the bosom of the Wednesday afternoon sewing circle. The minister's wife had not been present, and it was only right that she should be put right about this family of newcomers in the parish. "Some things had come to the ears of the sewing circle that were not--well, not exactly--''

"There's another side!" repeated the minister's wife, not so softly this time. In fact, there was a noticeable little ring of indignation in her tone, which died out in a sort of wondering pity as she noticed the challenging look of her caller. "You're glad there is another side, aren't you? Why, of course you are. And, you see, I know all about it."

"You weren't at the meeting," said the other stiffly. If you had been, you--"

"I saw, too--with my own eyes! That daughter of theirs is an opium--"

The visitor rose suddenly, almost unceremoniously. For a moment the hostess looked troubled and aghast. Had she spoken too sharply, discourteously, even? Her mind fled back over the interview as she faltered: "You are not going yet? You--oh, you aren't offended at anything I've said?"

"Yes, I'm going. Offended--I? I'm going round to see all our ladies, every single one of them!"

The minister's wife held her breath for the answer. One may be very bold, but it sometimes means a great deal to offend "the ladies."

"And tell them," said the caller, gathering her wraps about her, "that beautiful 'other side!'"

"Oh!" breathed the minister's wife gratfully. "And tell them, won't you, that there always is another side, always! And it is our Christian business to try and find it."-- Anna Burnham Bryant, Zion's Herald

       So it is that out of these elementary particles human bodies are built, and out of nature's storehouse God will in some way reinvest the spirit with a material organism. We can well believe that this is possible in the light of what chemistry can do. There are many things which the chemist can do which we would not believe to be possible did we not know them to be facts. I think it is Dr. Brown who quotes from Mr. Hallet the story of a gentleman who was something of a chemist, who had given a faithful servant a silver cup. The servant dropped the cup in a vessel of what he supposed to be pure water, but which in reality was aqua fortis. He let it lie there, not thinking it could receive and harm, but, returning some time after, saw the cup gradually dissolving. He was loudly bewailing his loss when he was told that his master could restore the cup for him. He could not believe it. "Do you not see," he said' "that it is dissolving before our sight?" But at last the master was brought to the spot. He called for some salt water, which he poured into the vessel, and told the servant to watch. By and by the silver cup began to gather as a white powder at the bottom. When the deposit was complete the master said to the servant, "Pour off the liquid, gather up this dust, have it melted and run together, then take it to the workman and let him hammer the cup again." You may take gold; you may file it down to a powder, mix it with other metals, throw it into the fire, do what you will with it, and the chemist will bring back with certainty the exact gold.

       Thus our bodies are built up by fruits from the tropics, by grain from the prairies. The flesh that roamed the plains as cattle has become part of us. If God can build up human bodies here, can He not find and convert the dust that we put away in the grave, and bring it back to forms of life? In my judgement, God is able to preserve even the particles of the human body and restore them. So far as the power is concerned, it can be done, and will be done, as God may think best. by H. W. Thomas, D. D.

      The Christian's is a stingless death. Death to such a one is an angel of peace. He comes to loose the prison bands of clay and set them free to go home to their Father's house. Theirs is the gain, ours is the loss, yet not all, for we must not forget that Christ's gospel has a power of transmitting present bereavement into gain. Bereavement is often turned for those who live into a blessing. God did tow kindnesses at one stroke when He bereft you of your beloved; one kindness to him: another kindness to you. To him, the perfecting of character and bestowal of bliss; to you, ripening of character and preparation for bliss.

      By such sweet solaces of sorrow as these, Christ leads us forward to the hope of a yet future and still grander consolation, when we shall be reunited in a holy place forever. It was a prediction of this which Jesus gave the day at Nain by the resurrection of the dead son and his reunion to his mother. The resurrection of Christ Himself is that which guarantees the ultimate unpeopling of every tomb, including that "vast and wandering grave," the sea. His risen body presents the type of every reconstructed Christian body. His glorified life is the source and pledge of their life in glory. For this recall from death by the archangel's voice to Christ's own deathless and transfigured immortality, as for the deepest, grandest and last of our consolations, Christ bids us hope. Now we are sad and weary for we dwell apart; but Jesus has compassion on us as he had upon the widow, and he tenderly encourages us to be patient, and to wait, because with such hopes as these He leads us, greatly longing, forward to a day, when He shall give back our lost beloved to our eternal embrace, and us also to theirs, the glorified to the glorified, to be forever one. Then He shall wipe all tears from our eyes, and say, otherwise and more effectually then He did at Nain, "Weep not." by Rev. J. Oswald Dykes, D. D.