The Bossier banner., 1894-05-17

and repulsive, is bright and beautiful,
its wings covered with silver and its
feathers with yellow gold.
See, in the first place, what religion
will do for mans heart. l care not
how cheerful a man may naturally be
before conversion, conversion naturally
brings him up to higher standard of
cheerfulness. l do not say he will
laugh any louder; l do not say but he
may stand back from some forms of
hilarity in which he once indulged;
but there comes into his soul an i'm
mense satisfaction. A young man not
a Christian depends upon world
ly success to keep his spirits
up. Now he is prospered, now he
has large salary, now he has a
beautiful wardrobe, now he has
pleasant friends, now he has more
money than he knows how to spend;
everything goes bright and well with
him. But trouble comes-there are
many young men in the house this
morning who can testify out of their
own experience that sometimes to
young men trouble does come-his
friends are gone, his salary is gone,
his health is gone; he goes down, down.
He becomes sour, cross, queer, misan-
thropie, blames the world, blames So
ciety, blames the church, blames ev-
erything, rushes perhaps to the intoxi-
eating cup to drown his trouble, but,
instead of drowning his trouble, he
browns his body and browns his soul.
But here is Christian young man.
Trouble comes to him. Does he give
up? No! He throws himself back on
the resources of Heaven. He says
God is my father. Out of all these
disasters shall pluck advantage for
my soul. All the promises are mine,
Christ is mine, Christian companion
ship is mine, Heaven is mine What
though my apparel be worn out?
Christ gives me a robe of righteous.
ness What though my money be
gone? have title deed to the whole
universe in the promise, All are yours ;
What though my worldly friends fall
away? Ministering angels are my
bodyguard. What though my fare be
poor and my bread be scant? l sit at
the Kings banquet
Oh, what a poor, shallow stream is
worldly enjoyment compared with the
deep, broad, overiowing river of Gods
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
lash into white foam at your feet.
They did not do you at harm. While
there you thought of the chapter writ
ten by the Psalmist. and perhaps you
recited it to youself while the storm
was making commentary upon the
passage: "God is our refuge and
strength, very present help in time
of trouble. Therefore will l not fear,
though the earth be removed and
though the mountains be carried into
the midst of the sea, though the waters
thereof roar and be troubled, though
the mountains shake with the swelling
thereof" Oh, how Independent the
religion of Christ makes a man of
worldly success and worldly circum-
stances! Nelson, the night before his
last battle, said: Tomorrow / shall
win either a peerage or grave in
Westminster abbey" And it does not
make much difference to the Christian
whether he rises or falls in worldly
matters; he has everlasting renown
anyway. Other plumage may be torn
in the blast, but that soul adorned
with Christian grace is fairer than the
dove, it's wings covered with silver, and
it's feathers with gold.
You and have found out that peo-
ple who pretend to be happy are not
always happy. Look at that young
man caricaturing the Christian relig-
ION, scoffing at everything good, going
into registering drunkenness, dashing
the champagne bottle to the floor, roll
ing the glasses from the bar-room
counter, laughing, shouting, stamping
the floor. Is he happy? / will go to
his midnight pillow. l will see him
turn the gas off. l will ask myself if
the pillow on which he sleeps is as soft
as the pillow on which that pure
young man sleeps. All! no. When he
opens his eyes in the morning, will the
world be as bright to him as that young
man who retired at night saying his
prayers, invoking Gods blessing upon
his own soul and the souls of his com
rades, and father and mother, and
brothers and sisters far away? No,
no! His laugh will ring out from the
caloon so that you hear it as you pass
by, but it is hollow laughter; in it is
the swapping of heart-strings and the
rattle of prison gates. Happy! that
young man happy?
Let him fill high the bowl; he can
not drown an upbraiding conscience.
Let the balls roll through the bowling
alley; the deep rumble and the sharp
crack can not overpower the voices of
condemnation. Let him whirl in the
dance of sin and temptation and death.
All the briliiancy of the scene can not
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;
yo will, won't you?" That young man
happy? Why, across every night there
fit shadows of eternal darkness; there
are adderS coiled nm in every p1n. thare