The Bossier banner., 1890-07-03

the character OF those who make great
profession of pity, but have no fruit
He compares them to barren fg-trees,
which have very large and snowy leaves,
and nothing but leaves. Would Job
illustrate deceitful friendships, he
speaks of brooks iE those climes, that
wind about in different directions, and
dry up when you want to drink out OF
them: my brethren have dealt deceit
fully as brook, and as the stream OF
brooks they pass away"
David, when he would impress us
with the despondency into which he
had sunk, compares it to quagmire of
those regions, through which he had
doubtless sometimes tried to walk, but
sunk in up to his neck, and he cried:
Il sink in deep miro where there is no
standing" Would Hahakkuk set forth
the capacity which God gives the good
man to walk safely amid the widest
perils, he points to the wild animal
called the hind, walking over slippery
rocks, and leaping from wild crag to
wild crag, by the peculiar make of its
hoofs able calmly to sustain itself in
the most dangerous places: ''The Lord
is my strength, and He will make my
feet like kinds feet"
Job makes all natural objects pay
tribute to the royalty of his book. AS
you go through some chapters of Job
you feel as if it were bright spring
morning, and, as you see the glittering
drops from the grass under your feet,
you say with that patriarch: ''Who hath
begotten the drops of the dew?" And
now, as you read on, you seem in the
silent midnight to behold the waving of
a great light upon your path, and you
look up to find it the aurora borealis,
which Job described so long ago as ''the
bright light in the clouds and the splen-
dor that cometh out of the north. :"
AS you read on there is darkness
hurtling in the heavens, and the
showers break loose till the birds fly
for hiding-place and the mountain tor
rents in red fury foam over the rocky
shelving; and with the same poet, you
eXclaim: "Who can number the clouds
in wisdom, or who can stay the bottles
of Heaven?" AS you read on, you feel
yourself coming in frosty climes, and,
in fancy, wading through the snow, you
say, with that same inspired writer:
Hast thou entered into the treasures
of the snow?" And while the sharp
sleet drives in your face, and the hail
stings your cheek, you quote him again:
Hast thou seen the treasures of the
hail?" In the Psalmist's writings hear
the voices of the sea: Deep calleth unto
deep;' and the roar of forests: "The
Lord shaketh the wilderness of
Kadesh;" and the loud peal of the black
tempest: 1.-THE God of glory thun-
| dereth;" and the rustic of the long silk
on the well-filled husks: ''The valleys
are covered with Scorn;" and the cry of
wild beasts: "The young lions roar
after their prey" the hum of palm-trees
sd cedars: THE righteous shall -four
ish like palm-tree, he shall grow like
cedar in Lebanon;" the sough of wings
and the swirl of fins: Dominion over
the fowl of the air and the fish of the
sea-"
Finally, learn from this subject what
an honorable position the Christian oc-
cupies when nothing is so great and
glorious in nature but it is made to edi-
fy, defend and instruct him. Hold up
your heads, sons and daughters of the
Lord Almighty, that may see how you
bear your honors. Though now you
may think yourself unbefriended, this
springs soft wind, and next sum-
mer's glowing fruits, and next
winters storms, all seasons, all
elements, zephyr and euroclydon,
roses breath and thundercloud,
| cleaning light and thick darkness, are
shorn to defend you, and cohorts of an
gels would fly to deliver you from peril,
and the great God would unsheathe His
sword and arm the universe in your
cause rather than harm should touch
you with one of its hghtest fingers.
''As the mountains around about Jeru.
salem, so the Lord is around about His
people from this time forth for ever
more. F"
Oh, for more sympathy with the nat
ural world and then we should always
have Bible open before US, and we
could take lesson from the most fleet
! ing circumstances, as when storm
came down upon England Charles Wes-
| ley sat in room watching it through
ar open window, and, frightened by the
| lightning and the thunder, a little bird
few in and nestled in the bosom OF the
sacred poet, and as He gently strok&i it
and felt the wild beating of its heart,
he turned to his desk and wrote that
hymn which will be sung while the
world lasts:
Jesus, lover Of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the pillows near me roll,
While the tempest still is high;
Hide me, o my Saviour, hide,
TIL the storm of life be past,
Safe into the haven guide,
o receive my soul at last.
Mouth Breathing and the Teeth.
DIR. Scanes Spicer read paper at the
| last meetinr of tho OdoDtoJOrio,I g