The Sauk Centre herald. (Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minn.) 1886-current, 1900-01-25

breast. IT'S pages are our food. We
learn to repeat 1t. We weep much. for
In sunshine and in shade. In the early
morning or late evening. In the field or
In the house. lhe devil walks with us.
He comes to US real person, copper
colOred face, head little on one side,
forehead knit. asking questions. Be-
Eeve me, 1t were better to be followed
by three deadly diseases than by him.
he is never silenced-without mercy.
Though the drops Of blood stand out on
your heart, he will put his question.
Softly he comes up 1--WE are only wee
bit child: SIS it good of God to make
hell? Was 1t kind Of him to let one be
forgiven unless Jesus Christ died?
Then he goes Off and leaves us with
Ing. Presently he comes back.
do you love him?" Waits little.
do you love him? You will be lost If
you don't"
We say we try to.
But do your Then he goes of. 4
1t Is nothing to him If we go quite
mad with fear at our own wickedness.
He asks on, the questioning devil. He
cares nothing what he says. We long
to tell some one, that they may share
our pain. We do not yet know that
the cup Of affection Is made with such
narrow mouth that only one lip can
drink at a time and that each mans
cup Is made to match his lip.
One day we try to tell some one.
Then grave head is shaken solemnly
at us. We are wicked, very wicked,
they say. We ought not to have such
thoughts. God is good, very good. We
are wicked, very wicked. That is the
comfort we get. Wicked? o Lord, do
we not know it? Is it not the sense of
our own exceeding wickedness that is
drying up our young heart, filling it
with sand, making all life a dust bin
for us?
Wicked? We know it! Too vile to
live, too vile to die, too vile to creep
over this Gods earth and move
among his believing men. He'll is the
one place for him who hates his mas
ter, and there we do not want to 60.
= This is the comfort we get from the
old.
And once again we try to seek for
comfort. This time great eyes look at
us wondering, and lovely little lips say:
IF it makes you so unhappy to think
of these things, swhy do you not think
of something else and forgetY
Forget! We turn away and shrink
into ourself. Forget and think Of 9TH
er things! o God, do they not under
stand that the material world Is but
film, through every pore Of which
Gods awful spirit world Is shining
through on us? We keep as far from
others as we can.
One night, a rare, clear moonlight
night, we kneel in the window. Ev-
cry one else Is asleep, but we kneel
reading by the moonlight. 1t Is a
chapter in the prophets telling how
the chosen people Of God shall be car
ried on the gentiles' shoulders. Surely
the devil might leave us alone. There
is not much handle for him there. But
presently he comes.
''Is it right there should be a chosen
people? To him who is Father to all
should not all be dear"
How can we answer him? We were
feeling so good till he came. We put
our head down on the Bible and blister
it with tears. Then we fold our hands
over our head and pray till our teeth
grind together. Oh, that from that
spirit world, so real and yet so silent,
that surrounds us one word would
come to guide us! We are left alone
with this devil, and God does not whis-
per to us. Suddenly We seize the Bible,
turning it round and round, and say
hurriedly:
1T will be Gods voice speaking to
us, his voice as though we heard it."
We yearn for a token from the mex
orabIy silent One.
We turn the book, put our finger
down on a page and bend to read by
the moonlight. It Is Gods answer. We
tremble:
"Then IA years after went up again
to Jerusalem with Barnabas and took
Titus with me ALSO" ...-a
For an instant our imagination seizes
it. We are twisting, twirling, trying to
make an allegory. The II years are IA
months; we are Paul, and the devil Is
Barnabas; Titus is Then a sudden
loathing comes to us. We are liars
and hypocrites. We are trying to de-
ceive ourselves. What is Paul to US
and Jerusalem? Who are Barnabas
and Titus? We know not the men.
Before we know we seize the book,
swing it round our head and fling it
with all our might to the farther end
of the room. We put down our head
again and weep. Youth and ignorance
is there anything else that can weep
so? ~ 1t is as though the tears were
drops Of blood CONCEALED beneath the
eyelids. Nothing else is like those
tears. After long time we are weak
with crying and lie silent, and by
chance we knock against the wood that
stops the broken pane. 1t falls. Upon
our hot, stiff face a sweet breath Of
wind blows. We raise our head and
with our swollen eyes look out at the
beautiful still world, and the sweet
night wind blows in upon us, holy and
a fror "a