The record-union., 1898-11-22

taken from the walls Of your home,
there are surely some pictures engraven
on the walls of your memory They
are yours yet. No Sheriff's hand
can take them from you. Dear
woman, IL the music must be
sold out of your home, you can keep
a few songs in your heart. Gods grace
and the glad hopes of the Gospel may
make melody there. You may go about
your humble home day by day singing
With grace in your heart unto the
Lord" The sweetest music heaven
hears from earth Is the songs that af-
fiicted souls sing in the night Of their
trouble. If you cannot strike a cheer
full chord at first, begin low down in
the scale and gradually rise. Initiate
the lark, which beginning on the earth,
rises until 1t pierces the very heaven in
Its song. That is how the Psalmist
sung in the forty-second Psalm. He
began in a minor key. My tears have
been my meat day and night His
soul was cast down. But listen. Hear
the clear soprano notes of joy that close
the song. ''Yet the Lord will command
His loving kindness in the day time,
and in the night His song shall be with
me, and my prayer unto the God of my
life" Therefore, do not fret over the
golden days Of the past. But, rather,
bring all the brightness and sunshine
of your yesterdays into your to-day.
Rejoice in the Lord always, and again
I say, rejoice
You have read the life Of Billy Bray,
whose religious life was so exuberantly
joyous. Some people rebuked him for
it. They told him that if he did not
cease his joyousness they would shut
him up in barrel Then, said Billy.
I'll praise the Lord through the bung
hole. A mans religion isn't worth
much unless 1t illumines his face,
sweetens his disposition and fills his
soul with the sunshine of salvation. If
you would learn the secret of joy. then
learn the value of prayer Cast thy
burden on the Lord and He will sustain
thee. He invites the heavy laden to
come and find rest and joy. Accept
His invitation. Go often to Him in
prayer
Tell Him about the heartache,
And tell Him your longings too;
Tell Him the baffied purpose
When you scarce knew what to do.
Then, leaving all your weakness
With the one divinely strong,
forget that you brought a burden,
Ana carry away a song.
Paul said, 81 have learned in whatso-
ever state I am Herewith to be con-
TENT He was not sitting in an easy
chair before a comfortable fire, in
fine house with pair of velvet slippers
on his feet and a loving wife singing at
the piano when he said that He was
q ~ all Il ID l,,x,
geon. Prison life was hard and bitter,
too, but he would not make it worse by
fretting. In a manly, Christian way
he resolved to make the best of it. He
knew he was in the care and keeping
of God. He knew that God loved him
in the prison as dearly as if he were
in a palace. He saw the Lords hand
in his Imprisonment. Therefore. he
rested in the Lord and waited patiently.
He did not fret because evildoers had
imprisoned him. He knew what we
ought to know, that all things work
together for good to them that love
God. Adverse things, sad things. fail
ures, bereavements, all things work to-
gether for good. Whom the Lord low
eth He chasteneth. The trials of life
are Gods furnace fires, to burn up the
dross and bring out more resplendently
the pure gold of character. He know
eth the way that take and when He
hath tried me I shall come forth as
gold"
You say You cannot understand why
this loss or that trouble came into your
life. You are not expected to understand
1t. What I do now thou knowest not.
but thou shalt know hereafter" God is
building the temple of your character.
Do not criticise or blame the builder
while the scaffolding is still up and
the hammer of the workman is heard.
Whenever you are disposed to COM
plain because you have not this or that.
think of what you do possess. You
are fretting and fuming and making a
dust in the house, like the woman in
the parable over the one piece of sill
yer that is lost, forgetting the nine
pieces safe in the purse Count up your
mercies and be grateful. 1t is true you
are not rich, but dear me. what a
good digestion you have Is not that
worth more than gold or fame? Re-
member the hymn.
When all thy mercies O. my God
MY rising sour SURVEYS
transported with the view I'm lost
In wonder, love and praise.
You sometimes morbidIy imagine
that you are specially afflicted. You
Halter yourself that yours is a pc
culiarly sad case, and that none could
be sadder. Change places with your
neighbor a day or two. and you will
be glad to get back into your own old
shoes. Look at the woes of others,
and you will bear your own griefs
more patiently. Go into an asylum,
and thank God that your reason is
preserved to you. Visit an incurable
ward of a hospital, and thank God for
health. Go into a prison, and thank
God that He has kept you from the
great transgression The fact is, my
sister or brother, your troubles are
more imaginary than real You have
more to be grateful for than you have
ever counted up. 1t is true, as Mrs
Browning has taught us
We are too ready with complaint
In this fair world of Gods Be comforted
And like a cheerful traveller take the road
Singing beside the hedge. What if the
Be bitter in thine inn and thou unshod
To meet the fiints. At least it may be