The Caucasian. (Shreveport, La.) 1900-192?, 1905-04-25

IS young woman. She has good,
ordinary, everyday brain. She is a
wife and Il mother. But instead or
STAYING at home and looking after the
children ana sharing her husbands
SORROWS and Gaze, she fv> Is she must
be a Joan Of Arc or Il Frances +. Will
lard or a Jenny Lind. She Is leI.'u ,ded
she has talents She has had visions in
reference to her true career" No one
can dissla;le her from this idea. So
she runs aro,n'l hither and thither and
absolutely frittrrs away her life in try
Ing to be Il cedar Of Lebanon when
God wanted her to be a wild flower.
Here is Il man who is a good, ordi-
nary, everyday simple preacher If he
would only be satisfied in the position
God had assigned him he would be
nightly blessed But he wants to be
a cedar of Lebanon He wants to be
| a Savonarola, Thomas Chalmers or
q John Knox, or he hears some Of the
great evangclists Of the world, and I'M
mediately he decides on going over IN
| the Scotch, or the Welsh, or the Aus
| tralians And what is the result? lie
| ruins his life for good because he is
not willing to be simple wild flower
| in Gods service.
| Never Despise Humble Position.
Never desplse your humble position
| In life, because you are like the sim
| pie wild flowers. When the second
| advent comes and Jesus, as the Divine
Bridegroom, goes down among the
Easter lilies or the wild flowers the
Lord will not say unto the multitude
of his children: did you occupy
great position in life? Were you a
noted general, or king, or statesman?
Like Hannah More, did you WELD
brilliant pen? Like Nine. de Recamier,
| did you have a salon filed with the
| leading thinkers of your land? He
will say, however: did you nestle, as
a clover top, among the green grasses,
| as commanded you? Did you tighten
the sickroom of some invalid when. at
my command, the messenger plucked
you? Did you breathe out your fra
GRANGE upon the coffin lid while the
minister uttered the committal, Ashes
to ashes, dust to dust?' Did you make
the marriage altar sweeter and holier
when the young girl plucked you In the
fields and with your bright faces dec
Grated the village church on the we'd
ding day? Did you carry the message
Of love between the angry brothers and
sisters and friends who had quarreled?
made you wild flowers. I loved you
because you were wild flowers. AS
Easter lilies, did you love and honor
meT
Another Easter lesson. After we
have done our best, then, like the wild
flowers, let us trust God that he will
do what is best for us. After we have
done our best we have no more right to
worry about our future than the wild
flowers have to worry where they are
going to get drink or from what
quarter their daily meals are to come
or where they are to find their sunshine
or their nights in which to sleep. find
all the more justification In the use of
this figure because at times it seems to
me that flowers, after all, are not mere
inanimate objects, but have certain
Intelligence Of their own. They seem
to me at times to be almost human In
their desires.
Suppose Flowers Could Speak.
Let us imagine for moment that
the wild flowers can speak. What
would you think Of rose which two or
three times in a night should wake up.
open its petals and begin to cry, say
ing: "Oh, it is so dark! I cannot see.
wonder If l will ever have the sun
beams again kiss my cheek and make
me blush?' Oh, no. That is not the
roses way. The rose says to herself
when she hears the angelus tolling In
the village: "Now it Is time for me tC
say good night and 60 to- sleep. have
done useful days work. have made
honey for dozen bees. l have made
thn tired, sick mother, riding by in he.
c4Friage, clap her hands for joy and
say, oh, what a beautiful rose!
have been drawn in the picture Of
Paul de Longpre. l have we'll earned
!, my rest. God will awake me in tht
morning. He will send to me the sun
, shine In his own good time. will nov
, say my prayers and 60 to sleep ant
, trust him.
, What would you think If all the wilt
flowers on the Jerusalem hills on thu
morning Of the blacklist Of all Blacl
Fridays In the worlds history begal
to weep and to cry and to beg Sup
r posing that we should hear them begin
to moan: what Is the matter? Wha
, Is the matter? Why Is that grea
T crowd surging forth from yonder gate
{ to crush us and trample our petals II
/ the dust? Why Is this darkness owe
, the whole earth? 1t Is not yet night
Is the end of the world at hand?
I God, why are those rocks swaying un
. derneath us as a cradle would rocl
+ under q mothers touch? Why this aw
full hight in the garden on this earl
g Easter mornY' If ever there was
a time when flowers could open thei
h lips and speak it must have been the
j. when their Maker suffered. But no
N<