St. Landry democrat., 1886-07-10

In bne QvlnS sacrament. LII may uoV oo
just the kind of food or apparel we would
prefer. The sensible parent depends on
his own jud gment as to what ought to be
the apparel and the food of the minor in
the family. The child would say:
"Give me sugars and corrections"
sob, no." says the parent, "you must
have something palmer first"
The child would say: "Oh, give me
these great blotches of color in the gar
ment."
"No," says the parent, "that wouldn't be
suitable"
Now, God is our father and we are
minors, and he is going to clothe US and
feed us, although he may not always yield
to our infantil wish for sweets and gilt
ter These ravens Of the text did not
bring pomegranates from the glttering
platter of King Ahab. They brought
bread and meat God had all the Heavens
and the earth before him and under him,
and yet he sends this plain food, because
it was best for Elijah to have it. Oh, be
strong, my hearer, in the fact that the
same God is going to supply you! 1t is
never "hard times" with him. His ships
never break on the rocks. His banks
never fail. He has the supply for You and
He has the means for sending it. He has
not only cargo but the ship. II it were
| necessary He would swing out from the
Heavens a flock of ravens reaching from
his gate to yours, until the food would be
flung down from the sky from beak to
beak and from talon to talon.
Notice again in this story of the text,
that the ravens did not allow Elijah to
hoard up surplus. They did not bring
enough on Monday to last all the week.
They did not bring enough one m orning
to last until the next morning. They
came twice day and brought just enough
for one time. You know as we'll as | that
the great fret of the world is that we want
a surplus-we want the ravens to bring
enough to last for fifty years. You have
more confidence in the Fulton Bank or the
Nassau Bank or Bank of England than
you have in the bank of hea ven. You
sly:
"All that is very poetic, but you may
have the black ravens; give me the gold
eagles"
We had better be contented with just
eaoagh. If in the morning your family
eat up all the food there is in the house,
do not sit down and cry and say:
81 don't know where the next meal is to
come from.'
About five or six or seven O'Clock in the
morning, just look up and you will see
two black spots on the sky, and you will
hear the Tapping of wings, and instead of
Edgar A. Poe's insane raven alighting on
the chamber door, "only this and nothing
nd F1iiah3c fxUo
or the two ravens of the Lord, the one
bringing bread and the other bringing
meat-plumed butcher and baker.
God is infinite in resource. When the
city of Rochelle was besieged and the in
habitants were dying of the famine, the
tides washed up on the beach as never be-
fore, and as never since, enough sheI-fish
to feed the whole city. God is good.
There is no mistake about that. History
tells US that in 1866 in England there was
great drouth. The crops failed, but in
Essex, on the rocks, in place where they
had neither sown nor cultured, a great
crop Of peas grew until they filed hum
dred measures; and there were blossom
ing vines enough promising as much
more.
But why go SO far? I can give you a
family incident. Some generations back
there was great drought in Connecticut,
New England. The water disappeared
from the hills, and the farmers living on
the hills drove their cattle down toward
the valleys and had them supplied at the
wells and fountains of the neighbors. But
these after awhile began to fail, and the
neighbors said to Mr.. Birdseye, of whom
shall speak:
"You must not send your focks and
herds down here any more, our wells are
giving out"
MIR. Birdseye, the old Christian man
gathered his family at the altar, and with
his family he gathered the slaves of the
household-for bondage was then in
vogue In Connecticut-and on their knees
before God they cried for water; and the
family story is that there was weeping and
great sobbing at that altar that the family
might not perish for lack of water, and
that the herds and focks might not perish.
The family rose from the altar. Mr.. Birds
eye, the old man, took his staff and walked
out over the hills, and in place whore he
had been scores of times without noticing
any thing particular, he saw the ground
was very dark, and he took his staff and
turned up the ground, and water started;
| and he beckoned to his servants, and they
came and they brought pals and buckets
until all the family and all the focks and
the herds were cared for, and then they
| made troughs reaching from that place
| down to the house and barn, and the wa
| ter flowed and it is living fountain to.
| day.
Now, call that old grandfather Elijah,
and I call that brook that began to roll
then, and is rolling still, the brook Cher.
it'll; and the lesson to me and all who hear
it is, when you are In great stress Of cir.
i