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4 (124) r H ?
Family I
BETWEEN THE DAYS.
Between the days, the weary days.
He droDB the darkness and the dews:
O'er tired eyes bis hands he lays.
And strength and hope and life renews.
Thank God for rest between the days!
Else wlho could bear the battle stress.
Or who withstand the tempest's shocks?
Who tread the dreary Wilderness
Among the pitfalls and the rocks?
Came not the night with folded flocks?
The white light scorches, and the plain
Stretches before us, parched with heat;
But. by and by. the fierce beams wane;
And lo, the nightfall, cool and sweet.
With dews to bathe our aching feet!
For "He remembereth our frame;"
For even thla I render praise.
O tender Master, slow to blame
The faltered oq life's stormy ways,
?British Weekly.
ROWING AGAINST THE CURRENT.
One summer day a man stood on the riverside
watching the turbulent stream as it rushed
on its journey to the sea. On its bosom were
many whirlpools and treacherous shoals, and
as he gazed upon this stream, considering how
perilous a journey upon it would be, his attention
u-no attracted hv a tinv soeck coming in
the distance. Almost without a pause he saw a
boat approaching. And as the mighty billows
rolled by tossing the boat to and fro, he saw
a tiny hand and face appear above the sides of
the boat, while a cheerful laugh and a friendly
hand-wave greeted hini. Tlio child, all unaware
of any danger, was drifting with the current.
So it is out on the sea of life today! It is
so easy for men to drift with the current of affairs.
There seems to be an indefinable something
in the bosom of humanity that causes
him to want to go with the crowd. And so
many times it results in heart-aches, pain and
1 * *?A nil auonnno nf
disappointment, mu u? u uc m on a.vi.u^o
life. The prodigal did that for a while and was
successful, as the world says, for a season, but
there came a time when the tide changed. A
thing which is inevitable. If we drink the
sweets we must of necessity endure the dregs,
Everybody seems willing to help almost any
kind of fellow as long as he is in the majority,
iAn(? na ho jo crnincr with the current. Yes.
it is comparatively easy for men and women
to go to church when the i-rowd is going. The
attendance in the Sunday School class is looked
upon with a great deal more charity when all
of the present numbers are present.
This is also true in other walks of life. Take
the newspaper man, and as long as he is willing
to move with the current of the crowd all goes
well. As long as he is willing to speak as the
crowd dictates?and so many men to-day are
not willing to do otherwise?they will say,
why, the public will boycott my paper. Afraid!
But then on the other haud thare are newspaper
men who speak out regardless of what the
public is going to say or do. They stand out
for the right on any question. The man preparing
a book has the same question to deal with.
If he stays in the old and beaten patha of the
paat everybody seems to pat him on the back
and call him a good fellow and his book a great
production. .While if he should enter a new
field, advance some new ideas, reveal some
hitherto undiscovered truths, truths far in ad
PKESBYTEHIAN OF THE 80
"leadings
vance of his day and time, he is regarded as
radical. However, the tiyie is rapidly approaching
when the public will be ready to receive
gladly any man or book that will give
it truth.
There comes a time in every life when it must
row against the current. Life is beset with so
many currents that must be sailed ,that we
can mention only a few of them. The first one
that is so apparent is the current of poverty.
And it seems to be the most galling of all currents.
It is beneath its tide that so many men
are lost. Yet the man who can ride its billows
for a season after a while the winds will cease
and calm will prevail and he will be a victorious
man.
Another current which is hard to sail against
is the current of criticism. Many a home is destroyed
by it, many a life is wrecked by it, and
many a family scattered by it. While that is
true, it is also true that criticism holds an important
place in the world to-day. There is
scarcely anything that can help a young man
more effentivelv th?n ? ?>#?rtnin lririrl nf niMii
cisin. We also find that the current of doubt
is beneficial because out from honest doubt have
come some of the most brilliant minds of all
times. Yet, mind you, we do not say it is absolutely
necessary, while from observation our
conclusion is that every mind that has passed
the acme of development has doubted at some
time or other.
We come now to the current of all currents,
that current in which the human race has
plunged, the current of sin. This current had
its origin back yonder in the Garden of Eden,
fltlH if Iioq Knon vnn'/ltn** if** ^? L
uwu niuuaiig HO no; UUtVU lUrUUgll
the centuries overflowing men and women of
every class. It is the most treacherous current
of all times. In it nations have been lost; in it
empires and kingdoms have gone down; in it
men and women have lost their bearings and
drifted upon the shoals of time; and in it human
characters have been blackened and immortal
souls lost?lost! lost! in the current of
sin. It is this current of sin that has flooded
the whole earth and h?n in itn bwpot* dmvon
ashore and wrecked many a thousand of human
beings. The one thing that makes this
current so heinous is that it appears in so many
different forms. Sometimes we, all unaware,
get so close to it that the spray and fumes lap
over our feet. At times we can look out and
see a great movement coming, and from all appearances
the stream is as pure as crystal, but
by and by we discover sometimes too late, that
instead of it being pure, it is foul and darkened
with sin?sheep in wolves' clothing. This current
in its tempestuous roll, as well as in its
almost hidden rivulets carries men and women
away from God, and only when it runs counter
to God's love is its fury broken. But thanks be
unto God, the stream of redeeming love, which
is God's love, is so clear and immense that the
streams of sin, however dark and foul they may
he, lose their identity in this eternal stream.
The one thing that makes this redeeming stream
all suflicieiit is the red chord from Calvary pulsating
through its bosom.
Therefore, rowing against the current of
poverty, the current of criticism and doubt, and
the current of sin in this life, prepares us to
move with the current out yonder with God.
Out there we will find only one great stream?
i the current of God's love. In that stream
> will be found no stagnant pools of poverty, no
D T H [February 12,1913
boisterous waves of criticism or tempestuous
floods of doubt, but on the other hand, that
stream flowing out of the throne of Qod and of
the Lamb will carry, in its majestic roll as it
sweeps on and on encircling the great throne
nf f VIA I^iiririA A f t*n A tn AOOH <*A A P 1 AIT A flMi A**A
VI. iUV Ju'M1UC, O 11UC mcooa^c VI 1UTC. AUCiC
upon that current and embodied in it will be
found all of the mighty hosts of earth who
have been able to row against the currents here
in this life. There they will sing the angelic
lore and listen to the Divine music as it is
wafted from the golden lyre. Upon the silvery
bosom of this current of God's love you and I
may have a place, and as so many crystal atoms
the redeemed of earth will row on with the current
of God and hum and whisper the music of
the ages as the eternities roll.?C. B. B., in Wes
tern Methodist.
HOW PAPA CAME HOME.
BY A1JCE M. R008.
"Mamma," is papa home?
"No, darling; try to go to sleep. Papa will
be here soon, I hope," came from the young
mother's lips.
"Why does papa stay away so late? Is he
busy?" questions the little girl from the tiny
bedroom.
"I don't know," after a pause; "I am
afraid papa has forgotten us and our little
home."
"Doesn't papa love us any more, mammy
dear?" Elsie's tone wa3 imperative.
"Oh, dear, I suppose papa loves us,?but, ohwhy
is he so changed?" was the involuntary
cry.
"Where is papa, mammy dear?"
"Over at Joe Mason's place, I think, dearie,
but go to sleep now."
Silence fell in the little home; an hour
passed, two, three; the fire burned lower in
the open grate, and the lamp flickered dismally.
The still coolness that foretells the borderland
of midnight, caused the young wife to
! J 1 ! J. 1 -1 v .
sniver ana lay asiue ner sewing, men sne
arose with a sigh. The supper so carefully
prepared was spoiled long ago, and she must
now get her sleep, else how could she care
for her babyt
"John will scarcely be here now before one
o'clock," she said to herself, as she opened the
cottage door and looked down the lighted
street. A tall man was stumbling along the
road carrying something in his arms. She
closed the door and went into her sitting-room
to watch the approaching figure from behind
the window curtains. As it came nearer, a
startled cry burst from her lips; then she ran
out of the house, down the garden path, and
through the sagging gate. "John, John! is
that you!" she criad as she seized him by the
arm and steadied his sidling form.
"Elizabeth," said the now rapidly sobering
man, as they entered their cottage, "how came
you to send the baby to fetch met"
"Elsie fetch you! I send her! What do
you mean! Let me have her, John; you will
lot Vior full "
"Never again, Elizabeth! My arms will be
a safe place for her hereafter. She is fast
asleep now; she was so tired."
"But, John, I put her to bed. I can not see
how?I do not understand."
"I was drinking with Joe Lollard, when I
heard my baby calling, 'papa, papa! Don't
you love mamma and Elsie any moret" Then
she cried as if her heart was broken. .Joe Lollnrd
Vi a said "
"What did he say, John?" Elizabeth asked
anxiously, as she took the sleeping child from
her father, to lay her in her tiny bed.
"Joe said, 'Take the little un hum/ If I