The Argosy — page 272: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“ Beside all Waters.” 253 wonderful complex meanings, bringing home its lessons with irresist- ible force to the hearts and consciences of his hearers. The sorrow and suffering that darken the face of the whole earth, the sins that blind and distort, the follies that lead astray, were touched upon with unsparing realistic force, but the closing words were words of comfort and hope. ‘‘Somewhere or other, some time or other, you will all stand in the midst of that penetrating light and look on Him. Even now He may be very near ; the thing that troubles you so much may be the herald of His footsteps. Oh! be sure you obey His voice! And then when you lift your eyes you will see not only the meaning of all the darkness but—Huimself. God in His mercy grant you that revelation! And for those whose outward eyes are really darkened—those who are as His martyrs glorifying His name— pray for them, beloved, you who have this beautiful changeful world to speak to you of your God. But think also how marvellous will be their revelation, when they who have never seen the traces of sorrow and the hideous mask of sin that saddens this our earth shall be made whole as they look to Him and are lightened. Often have I tried to picture it to myself, and it seems to me that all their glad- ness will be concentrated in this stupendous vision, and that the first words spoken in the risen life may be that joyful cry, ‘One thing I know, that whereas I was blind now I see.’ Yea, and that sight shall compensate for the gloom of the long night of earth, for their eyes shall see the King in His beauty; they shall behold the Land that is very far off.” The sermon was ended, and the congregation streamed out into the peaceful graveyard where the quiet dead slept beneath the daisied grass. Some of the people stood talking in little groups together ; others hurried away as if their hearts were full. The preacher stood apart from them, leaning over the wicket- gate and looking out at the peaceful land. ‘The sound of children’s voices fell upon his ear, and he turned to see the Rector with his bevy of laughing lads and lassies dancing round him, while one little lad of about eleven was clinging closely to his father’s hand. “Take me to him,” the child was saying as they drew near. He recognised the curly head round which the sunbeams had been playing all the afternoon, and with a thrill of pain there flashed across him the meaning of the anxious startled look with which the Rector had turned to him as he read out his text—the child was blind. “Oh! I am so grieved,” he began almost instinctively as he moved forward. ‘‘ Why did no one tell me?” But the child, guided by his voice, stretched out his hands to him, saying, as he felt himself taken in those kind arms: “Oh, sir, did you make that sermon for me?” And then he added: “I have been very cross and complaining, I know, but (C©) COnnICLOoOKS