That the Lord, who clothes each flower,
Will much more provide for you.’”
THE LANTERN
Gently, Lord, O gently lead us
Through this lonely vale of tears —
Through the changes here decreed us,
Till our last great change appears.
When temptation’s darts assail us,
When in devious paths we stray,
Let Thy goodness never fail us —
Lead us in Thy perfect way.
The sun had disappeared behind the western hills, and darkness was fast covering the face of nature, when a little girl, who had been to a distant city, commenced retracing her steps homeward. A kind friend handed her a lantern, and told her if she followed the road on which the lantern shone, it would certainly direct her home. She started with a light heart and joyous spirits, much delighted with her journey beside the still waters, and through the green pastures.
By and by she came to a certain place where two roads branched off. She did not know which one to take; but soon found that her lantern shone very plainly on the one beset with thorns and briers. She concluded to disregard the advice of her friend, and took the opposite road, as it seemed so much more pleasant than the one on which her lantern shone. At first her pathway was bordered with roses of the sweetest fragrance, and with everything calculated to make a young person happy. Finally she reached a point in her journey where she knew not what to do. She had no lamp to direct her; no kind friend to whom she might look for directions; all around her was dark and dismal. Wherever she trod, her steps seemed beset with troubles of every kind.At last a friendly voice whispered in her ear, and said: “Stop, my dear child – stop and think. You know not whither you are going. You are in the road to death. Stop, before you further go.”She determined to turn her course, and retraced her steps with a heavy heart, determined thereafter always to follow the road on which her lantern shone. She soon reached the place where she had left her lantern, and found its rays still brightly shining on the same road.She continued her journey onward, and found, though it was rough at first, the farther she proceeded, the better was she pleased. When she reached her home, she found her friends anxiously awaiting her arrival. They all greeted her with a kiss, and welcomed her back again.
At last a friendly voice whispered in her ear, and said: “Stop, my dear child – stop and think. You know not whither you are going. You are in the road to death. Stop, before you further go.”
She determined to turn her course, and retraced her steps with a heavy heart, determined thereafter always to follow the road on which her lantern shone. She soon reached the place where she had left her lantern, and found its rays still brightly shining on the same road.
She continued her journey onward, and found, though it was rough at first, the farther she proceeded, the better was she pleased. When she reached her home, she found her friends anxiously awaiting her arrival. They all greeted her with a kiss, and welcomed her back again.
Children, the little girl about whom I have been telling you is the young Christian, commencing her journey from the city of Destruction to the New Jerusalem. The journey is her Christian life; the two roads are the long and narrow road to Heaven, and the broad road to Hell; the kind friend is some fellow Christian, and the lantern is God’s Holy Word. The thorns in the one road are the trials of a Christian; while the roses in the other are the allurements placed there by the Wicked One, to ensnare the careless and inconsiderate. Her home is Heaven.
Young Christian, learn a lesson from the conduct of this little girl: Never pursue the course which seems most pleasant, but the one laid down in the Bible.
“Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”
“‘Whither goest thou, pilgrim stranger
Wand’ring through this lonely vale?
Know’st thou not ’tis full of danger,
And will not thy courage fail?’
“‘Pilgrim thou hast justly call’d me,
Passing through a waste so wide;
But no harm will e’er befall me
While I’m blessed with such a guide.’
“‘Such a guide! – no guide attends thee,
Hence for thee my fears arise:
If some guardian power befriends thee,
’Tis unseen by mortal eyes.’
“‘Yes, unseen, but still believe me,
I have near me such a friend;
He’ll in every strait relieve me,
He will guide me to the end.’”
“I’m but a stranger here;
Heaven is my home:
Earth is a desert drear;
Heaven is my home:
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.
“What though the tempests rage?
Heaven is my home:
Short is my pilgrimage;
Heaven is my home:
And time’s wild wintry blast
Soon will be overpast;
I shall reach home at last.
Heaven is my home.
“Therefore I murmur not;
Heaven is my home:
Whate’er my earthly lot,
Heaven is my home:
And I shall surely stand
There at my Lord’s right hand:
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.”
THE DECISIVE MOMENT
“There is a time, we know not when, —
A point, we know not where, —
That marks the destiny of men
To glory or despair.”
Not many years ago, when the H – river was very much swollen by the spring rains, and the water had nearly reached its highest point, a lumberman was seen in the midst of the stream, attempting to secure a lot of timber which had broken loose from its fastening.
In his deep interest to secure the timber, he went too far out into the current. His little bark was caught by the rapid tide, and borne along with almost lightning rapidity.
There he sat, motionless as a pillar, not knowing at what moment he should be swallowed up by the roaring and foaming stream. A friend on shore sees his critical situation, mounts his horse, and rides, courier-like, to a neighboring bridge which spans the river. On and on he speeds; now the rider and the boat are side by side; anon the boat passes him, but he spurs his noble animal onward, reaches the bridge in time, seizes a rope and throws it over the arch, awaiting with breathless suspense the approach of the pale and fear-stricken lumberman.
The boat passes immediately under the arch, the boatman grasps the rope with death-like earnestness, and is saved.
One moment’s delay of the rider, or his failure to grasp the rope, would have sealed his doom forever, and the noble H – been his grave.
My dear young friends, how often do we see persons, in their mad attempts to procure the filthy