We Shall Know Each Other.
By Sel.
THE minister of a fashionable church once preached a beautiful sermon on this subject. He drew the picture of a very beautiful heaven. We would walk in the sunlit groves, by the music of water-falls, and gaze out upon Amaranthine fields. And then, too, “we shall know each other there,” said the minister, and then added, “there’ll be no strangers in the New Jerusalem; we’ll all be friends.” “Beautiful!” said Deacon Sham, as he trotted down the aisle. “A lovely sermon!” said Miss Simpkins, as she put her bony hand into the minister’s. She was stopped by a poor mechanic, who came up and addressed the preacher. “Mr. ——, I am glad we shall recognize each other there.” “Yes,” said the minister, “it is one of the greatest consolations of our religion.” “Well, I’m right glad we shall know each other. It will be a great change, though; for I have attended your church for over four years, and none of the members of this society have recognized me yet. But—we shall know each other there.”—Sel.