The Birmingham age-herald., 1903-10-04

name the example of fathers life well and honestly lived. Even as l speak now and talk about his past life a blush man. ties your cheek. When you contrast his pure life with yours and you remember some of the mean, sneaklng things YOU are accustomed to do in your dealings with your fellow men, you say: T wish had always followed in the footsteps of my father l wish 1 had always fol- lowed In his straight path" Why don't you, my brother? Why don't you now? Are the thickets too strong about vou? Are the jungles of sin too dense? God is telling you today to seek the old paths Ask for the old path, the straight path, the honest path, which your father once trod. Seek 1t nowl
 "6lazine" Marks.
 Then, again, l further study the "blaz- ing marks along the paths which led up to the home of our childhood. 1 find out that these paths were Christian paths and always led toward the throne of God How do l know? Simple enough. Let me Illustrate: When l was in Europe 1 al- ways, as far as possible, got away from the beaten tracks of tourists. l never could see what enjoyment there was for a summer tourist to go to Paris and live with Americans in an American hotel and go to Rome and live with Americans in hotel run there for Americans, and go to Berlin and live with Americans in Berlin. When 1 go to Europe as far as possible l live there among the natives, and for the most part among the com mon people. Now again and again., when l have turned my back upon European cities and climbed the unfrequented paths which lead over the mountains, 1 have been startled with finding here a cross and there an altar. 1 would find these crosses and altars far, far away from any house or church. Then, as l have concealed myself among the trees and waited, l have seen weary peasants come along with great big packs strapped to their shoulders. Then I have seen them stop and look around to see if any one was watching. Then l have seen them unstrap their burdens and lay them at the feet of the image of Christ and then and there kneei in prayer. Well. my friend, in going along the pathway which was "blazed' by your mothers bread knife and knitting needle, I come upon altars everywhere. I find that there was hardly step that she took in life but she had place where she could stop and kneel in pray>'. And at every altar find indentations in the rocks where she laid her burdens at the Savior's feet.
 And, ch, my friend, what lot of bur dens she had to lay upon her Saviour s breast in her journey of lfe There was that awful burden of physical sickness l do not know how you may remember your mother, but most of us think of mother when she was physically sick She seemed to be so long dying. Now it was the pain in the head; now it was the disordered nerves Then it was that long. long time, when we had a trained nurse How is mother today?' the younger children would ask, and we would an- swer, Not very well my dear; not very we'll" I think one of the saddest and yet the most beautiful prayers my moth CT used to make, in the last year and a half of her earthly existence. was this 70 God may my children never have to physically suffer as I have suffered Yet for the most part, our mothers lost. their physical health by living and doing for us.
 A GIorified Roadway.
 I go a little farther along this Chris tian path of your dead mother. l find also the place where she laid at Christs feet the burden of her anxiety for the salvation of her children. Some people love to think of their mother, first by picturing her sitting and sewing for their advent. It is a beautiful sight to see the young wife by the evening lamp, with her needle in her hand, making the little white garments for the stranger soon to come. Our mothers thought and planned for the cradle and little wardrobe weeks before we were born. They did it so that when they should lie down upon bed of suffering all might be well for the little ones welcome. That is a beautiful vision. But, oh, to me it is a far more beautiful sight to see a young wife upon her knees in prayer. To think of her praying to God that her unborn child might grow up to be good man, a good woman. And you. my friend, sitting be- fore me, from that moment when your mother first prayed for you until her death she never left that altar before which she was continually beseeching God for the salvation of your soul. Along that Christian pathway she first led your tottering feet. In that Christian pathway she first taught you to utter the baby prayer, Now I lay me down to sleep" In that Christian path she gave you her dying benediction. Will you not seek the old path, the Christian path of your glorifed and sainted mother? It Is a path covered with wild flowers and fra grant with perfume. Those flowers and taht pathway have been watered with your mothers tears.
 But there is another path to which I would call your attention today. It is that which you once travelled when going to Sunday school and to the church of your childhood. If that church was in the country then there was poetry in your going When the call of the village bell rang those notes would press their way through the atmosphere like bubbles of air working their way up from the bot tom of a stream. They would come near CT and nearer to your ear. as the bub- bles come nearer and nearer to surface of the waters Then with a happy laugh they would seem to burst. You would first hear those notes when you would be riding toward the town. Father and mother brothers and sisters would all be crowded together in the one carriage My there was big load of you who used to travel that roadl No wonder the big springs of that family vehicle used to bend and groan and creak under the heavness of the load.
 Walking With Christ.
 If the path which you first travelled to Sunday school was along the sidewalk of city, then in all probability you walked. You walked by the side of your father or mother, because you were the youngest. Then your new shoes would squeak at every step. Those shoes kept new for a long while, because you were only allowed to wear them on Sunday. But as you rode or walked to that Sun day school and to your first church ser vices a great change came over your family party. One of your sisters or 1rot,ara Jeff VOLT side and went m to