# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1903_S31
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

TREATIES SERRE SEO

‘he Lutheran Pioneer.

31

The Mocker Reproved.

Some years ago, writes a pastor, it.was my
privilege to meet in Switzerland, on the shores
of Lake Geneva, a young American, who was
suffering with spinal disease, which had
crippled and pained him from his birth.
pale face, and shrunken limbs, and curved back
gave indication of the agony he had endured,
but his soul basked in the sunshine of his Sav-
iour’s smile.

On one occasion he went for a day’s change

and recreation to the town of Bex, the ter-
minus, at that time, of the railroad through
the valley, and the place to which many trav-

elers gathered on entering or leaving Italy.
He was seated at a table in a large dining
room with a number of tourists who had
just crossed theA lps, and were waiting for
the train, when his attention was called
to the loud remarks of a tall, robust, and
handsome man; and he soon learned that
the remarks were directed with many a
shaft of ridicule and wit against the Bible.

The skeptic, having finished his dinner,
was in the act of withdrawing from the
table, when the young American said
to him gently, ‘‘May I detain you a mo-
ment??? ‘‘Certainly,’’ was the kind re-
ply, as the stranger glanced at the sickly
youth, not knowing what he wanted.
“I only wish,’’ said the Christian, with
his weak and plaintive voice, ‘‘to tell you
briefly my history. I was born in the
United States of America, and have al-
ways been in my body as you sce me
now, only worse. My father died in my
infancy, and there was no one to love me
or care for me but my mother. I had no
childhood, but when the boys were play-
ing and shouting in the streets, I was
lying in a darkened room, moaning with
pain. Under God I owe my life from
day to day to the unwearied tenderness
and watchfulness of that mother, who
thought, when I had struggled on to
the age of a young man, that a visit to
the Holy Land I had so longed to see would
interest me, and might possibly benefit my
health. We reached Palestine in safety, but
there my mother was suddenly seized with
fever, and was laid away in the grave, and
now I am on my way home to die too. The
only joy left me on earth is the hope of meet-
ing my mother again with Jesus, in heaven;
would you take that joy from me?’

‘No, no,’’ said the infidel, while the tears
ran down his face, ‘‘I would not. Keep your
hope and your joy, and I beg your pardon for
having said a word to wound you.”

“Qh,’’ exclaimed the Christian, ‘thank God,
you cannot deprive me of my comfort, for I
know here,’” he added, as he placed his hand
upon his heart, ‘‘how precious is Christ, and
how true is His Word; but to-day you have
poisoned the happiness of some of these young
men who have listened to your cruel harangue

His |

|against the Bible. You are strong, and do
| very soon to sorrow and disappointment and
temptation and death; and you have done all
you can to take away their only shelter and
support in the hour of need.’’

and humbled before the pale youth, and then

drew. —

My dear young reader, turn away from the
jest and the sneer of the skeptic; avoid the

The powerful man stood for a moment silent

said solemnly, ‘‘I was wrong and deserve your
|reproof. Never again will I speak in the pres-
ence of others as I did to-day,’’ and respect-
fully taking the hand of the Christian he with-

stances. One day one of them ventured to

not feel your need of God; but they may come | ask her about the matter.

‘Does your son never send you money?’’

‘‘No,”’ reluctantly answered the mother;
but, eager to defend him against the implied
charge of forgetfulness and ingratitude, she
quickly added, ‘‘But he writes me nice long
letters, and sends me a pretty picture in al-
most everyone of them.”

‘Where are the pictures?’’ queried the vis-
itor; ‘‘may I see them ?’’

‘“‘Why, certainly,’’ was the answer. And
the old woman went toa shelf, and took down
the old Bible, and there, between the leaves,
lay the ‘‘pictures”” that the son had been send-

writings and the talk of the infidel! They|ing her from America through all the years.

“Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast.”

may poison and ruin your soul. Some young
men are weak enough to imagine that it is a
proof of superior intelligence to profess infidel
sentiments. What fools they are! Men have
been great, as the world calls it, in spite of
their infidelity, but no one was ever great by
reason of his infidelity, while thousands have
been truly great hy their personal devotion to
Jesus. Beware of the dangers that beset the
soul at every step.

‘‘Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his
way? By taking heed thereto according to
Thy Word,” Ps. 119, 9.°

—- oe

Hidden Treasures.

‘An old woman in Scotland was living in the
most abject poverty. Her neighbors thought
it strange, knowing that she had a son in
America reputed to he in comfortable circum-

What were they? Nothing more nor
less than banknotes, each for a consider-
able amount. During all this time of need
the woman had had under her hand a sum
of money sufficient to satisfy her every
want, and she did not know it. ‘She had
looked at the pictures, she had thought
them pretty pictures, they had been to
her reminders of her far-off son, and evi-
dence that he had not forgotten her, and
that was all.

Of what does the little story remind
you? Are we not often like this woman,
finding ‘‘pictures”’ in the Book, where we
should find wealth for the supply of all
our needs? God’s promises are bank-
bills, they are checks and drafts upon
the bank on high. We look at them,
admire them, we think of the love that
prompted God to make them and give
them to us; we imagine circumstances in
which they would be peculiarly and ex-
ceedingly precious and helpful. Then
we shut the Bible, and leave them there,
and go out to face the poverty and desti-
tution of life. We do not use them, spend
them, buy with them, live upon them as
we might and ought. Yet the mistake
is ours, not God’s. He has given them
to us. He means that they should be
used as the ‘‘coin of the realm.’’ He is
not to blame if we persist in seeing only the
pictures in them and upon them. Whatare the

promises to you, ‘spictures,’” OF banknotes?
Golden Rule.

— oo oe _

Useless Worry.

A poor shoemaker, who had always given
liberally for the cause of missions, was quite
shocked, one day, to hear an intelligent and
wealthy gentleman angrily complaining of the
immense sums of money which were constantly
leaving the country for such a useless purpose _
as ‘‘Christianizing the heathen.” .

“Give yourself no unnecessary concern, dear
sir,” said the shoemaker, *tnot one.cent of it
has come out of your pocket!”

; —_2—-c-

Tne longest life cannot afford a single year
to be thrown away.