LUCK is waiting for something to turn up. Labour, with keen eye and strong will, will turn up something. Luck lies in bed and wishes the postman would bring him news of a legacy. Labour turns out at six o'clock, and with busy pen or ringing hammer, lays the foundation of a competency. Luck whines. Labour whistles. Luck relies on chances. Labour relies on character. Luck slips down to indigence. Labour strikes upward to independence. Instead, therefore, of waiting to see what Luck will do for you, make a friend of Labour, and he will never deceive you. 'Work! work! work!' is the every-day call of life, and youth is the time to learn how to do it. Remember that it is only the workers who know how to enjoy rest. As we began by speaking of Luck and Labour, so we close with a beautiful little sentiment we found the other day on a similar subject. It is about 'The Music of Life.' 'If one note in the organ be out of key or harsh of tone, it mars the whole tune. All the other reeds may be in harmony; but the one defective reed destroys the sweetness of all the rest. In every tune this reed makes discord somewhere. Its noise jars out into every note. And so one sin destroys the harmony of a whole life. A boy or girl may be obedient, filial, industrious, and honest; but illtemper is a jarring reed that touches every grace with chill and discord. Let every affection and every thought, and every word and every action be right; then there is music in the life.' Luther's Courage. As Luther drew near the door which was to admit him into the presence of his judges (the Diet of Worms), he met a valiant knight, the celebrated George of Freudsberg, who, four years later, at the head of his German lansquenets, bent the knee with his soldiers on the field of Pavia, and then charging to the left of the French army, drove it into the Ticino, and in a great measure decided the captivity of the king of France. The old general, seeing Luther pass, tapped him on the shoulder, and shaking his head, blanched in many a battle, said kindly: 'Poor monk, poor monk! thou art now going to make a bolder stand than I or any other captain has ever made in the boldest of our battles. But if thy cause is just, and thou art sure of it, go forward in God's name, and fear nothing. God will not forsake thee.' A noble tribute of respect paid by the courage of the sword to the courage of the mind. Opening the Heart. THE REV. J. G. Cunningham said :-I knew a little boy-he was my own brother, in fact-whose heart was touched by a sermon on the words, 'Behold, I stand at the door and knock.' My mother said to him, when she noticed that he was anxious, 'Robert, what would you say to any one who knocked at the door of your heart, if you wished him to come in?' and he answered, 'I would say, 'Come in." She then said to him, 'Then say to the Lord Jesus, 'Come in." Next morning there was a brightness and a joy about Robert's face that made my father ask, 'What makes you so glad to-day?' He replied, 'I awoke in the night, and I felt that Jesus was still knocking at the door of my heart, and I said, 'Lord Jesus, come,' and I think He has come in. I feel happier this morning than I ever was before.' I could see that Jesus had come in by his obedience, by his beaming countenance, and by the love he showed to God's Word and to God's people.' A Mortal Combat. ABOUT three years ago, a leopard took it into his head to try the beef-steaks in a very savage and sharp-horned cow, who, with her calf, was the property of a blacksmith. It was a dark, rainy night, the blacksmith and his wife were in bed, and the cow and her calf were nestled in the warm straw of the cattle shed. The door was locked, and all was apparently secure when the hungry leopard prowled stealthily around the cow-house, sniffing the prey within. The strong smell of a leopard at once alarmed the keen senses of the cow, made doubly acute by her anxiety for her little charge, and she stood ready for the danger, as the leopard, having mounted on the roof, commenced scratching his way through the thatch. Down he sprang, but with a splendid charge the cow pinned him against THE CROSS. the wall, and a battle ensued, which can easily be imagined. A coolie slept in the corner of the shed, whose wandering senses were completely scattered when he found himself the unwilling umpire of the fight. He rushed out and shut the door. In a few minutes he succeeded in awakening the blacksmith, who struck a light and proceeded to load a pistol, the only weapon he possessed. During the whole of this time the bellowing of the cow, the roars of the leopard, and the thumping, shuffling, and trampling which proceeded from the cattle-shed explained the savage nature of the fight. The blacksmith, who was no sportsman, shortly found himself with a lantern in one hand and a pistol in the other, but no idea what he meant to do. He waited, therefore, at the cattle-shed door, and, holding the light so as to shine through the numerous small apertures in the shed, he looked in. The leopard was no longer growling, but the cow was mad with fury. She alternately threw a large dark mass above her head, then quickly pinned it to the ground on its descent, then bored it against the wall as it crawled helplessly toward a corner of the shed. This was the beef-eater in reduced circumstances! This gallant cow had nearly killed him, and was giving him the finishing stroke. The blacksmith perceived the leopard's helpless state, and, boldly opening the door, he discharged the pistol, and the next moment was bolting as hard as he could with the cow after him! She was regularly 'up,' and was ready for anything or anybody. However, she was at length pacified, and the dying leopard put out of his misery. The Cross. A TRAVELLER, sailing in southern seas for the first time, asked to have the wonderful sky-cross pointed out to him. One clear night the man on the watch called out, 'There is the cross!' pointing to a single star that glowed on the horizon. 'But there is only a single star,' answered the traveller. 'Wait! It is all there. You will see it soon,' was the reply. Presently another star appeared, and then another and another, until the beautiful constellation was complete. So it may be in human souls. The shining of 127 the cross of Christ is at first revealed but in part. One star rises above the horizon of sin and selfishness- -the Star of Bethlehem, the hope of the world. As we gaze another comes to view-Jesus the Man, our great Example; and then another-Jesus the God, the Wonder-worker; and then another-O wonderful, revealing Jesus the Saviour! 'Gazing thus our sin we see, See Thy love while gazing thus ; A Gleaner's Wagrant Musings in a Harvest Field. 'On, dear, I'm fairly tired. What a hard spell of gleaning I've had. But I'm not going to grumble. Shame upon me if I did. Just look what a fine lot of corn I've got. Won't mother's eyes sparkle when she sees it. But I must now rest a little. It's a good long way to our house, and I've got a big load to carry. Yes, I must rest, for I'm fairly tired. Don't think I'm fretting. I'm not. My legs are weary, but my heart is light and glad. I just feel as if I could fly. Were I a bird, I would soon be at the top of yon mountain. How bonnie it looks, with its grassy banks, and the blue sky above it. It seems almost to touch the sky. I wonder how near it is to heaven. It must be very near. What a pretty lake lies there at its foot. It looks as smooth as glass and clear as crystal. How pleasant to have a sail on it. And here around me are the ricks of yellow corn, standing in rows, waiting to be carted to the stackyard. How good the Lord is to provide bread for his creatures. And in what a wonderful way he does it. How is it the corn grows? Nobody can tell. You may say it grows of itself, but that's no answer. God makes it grow, and that's about all we can say. I don't understand how, but I believe it, and I am thankful. Yes, God makes the corn grow, and in this He shows His fatherly care of us, His children. Were the fruits of the earth to be withheld the whole race of mankind would soon die. 'O that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men.' He who can suppress a moment's anger may prevent a day of sorrow. |