Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1894-04-05

Irouble COmSs 10 MN, l)OeS ne give upf
mol He throws himself back on the re
sources of heaven. He says: "God is my
Father. Out of all these disasters / shall
pluck advantage for my soul. f.sr the
promises are mine; Christ is mine; Chris
tian companionship is mine; heaven il
mine. What though my apparel be worn
outy Christ gives me robe of righteous
ness. What though my money be gomez
have title deed to the whole universe
In the promise, All are yours What
though my worldly friends fall away
Nlnistering angels are my bodyguard.
What though my fare he poor, and my
bread be scant? l sit at the kings ban.
quetI"
FAlRER THAN THE DOVE.
Oh, what a poor, shallow stream is
worldly enjoyment 8mpared with the
peace, rolling midway in the Christian
heart Sometimes you have gone out on
the iron bound beach of the sea when there
has been storm on the ocean, and you
have seen the waves dash into white foam
at your feet They did not do you any
harm. While there you thought OF the
chapter written by the psalmist, and per
haps you recited it to yourself while the
storm was making commentary upon the
passage: "God is our refuge and strength,
very present help in time Of trouble,
Therefore will ] not fear, though the esrth
be removed, and though the mountains he
carried into the midst of the sea. though
the waters thereof roar and he troubled
though the mountains shake with the
swelling thereof" Oh, how independent
the religion of Christ makes n man OF the
worldly success and worldly circum
stances! Nelson, the night before his last
battle, said, Tomorrow | shall win eli
ther a peerage or grave in Westminster
abbey" And it docs not make much diff
ference to the Christian whether ne rises
or falls in worldly matters. lie has ever
lasting reuown anyway. Other plImage
may be torn in the blast, but that soul
adorned with Christian grace is faircr than
the dove, its wings covered with silver,
and its feathers with gold.
You and have found out that people
who pretend to be happy are not always
happy. Look at that young man carica
turing the Christian religion scofiing at
everything good, going into roisterin2
drunkenLess, dashing the champagne bot
tie to the floor, rolling the glasses from the
barroom counter, laughing. shouting,
stamping the door. Is he happy? | viii
90 to his midnight pillow. | will see him
turn the gas off will ask myself if the
pillow on which he sleeps is as soft as | he
pillow on which that pure young man
sleeps All, no, When be opens his eyes
in the morning, will the world be as brigh
to him rs to that young man who retired
mt night saying his prayers, invoking Gods
blessing upon his own soul and the soul
of his comrades and father and mother
and brothers and sisters far away? No,
no! His laugh will ring out from the sa-
loon so that you hear it as you pass by,
but it is hollow laughter. In It is the snap
ping of heartstrings and the rattle of pIis
on gates. Happy that young man happy
HIS MOTHERS LAST LOOK.
Let him fill high the bowl. He cannot
drown an upbraiding conscience. Let tine
balls roll through the bowling alley. The
deep rumble and the sharp crack cannot
ovcrpower the voices of condemnation.
Let him whirl i'll the dance OF sin and
temptation and death. All the brilliancy
of the scene cannot make him forget the
last look of his mother when he left home,
when she said to him: "Now, my son, you
will do right; am sure you will do right.
You WILL won't you?" That young man
happy? Why, across every night there fiji,
shadows OF eternal darkness; there are adj.
ders coiled up in every cup there are vul-
lures of despair striking their iron beaks
into his heart; there are skeleton fingers OF
grief pinchng at the throat
come in amid the clicking of the glasses
and under the flashing of the chandeliers,
and cry: "\Noe, woe The way of the I'M
godly shall perish. There is no peace,
saith my God to the wicked. The way
of tropspressorS ia hard - Nh WV frio, do