# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1911_S11
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

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The Three Sieves.

“QO mamma!’ cried little Blanche Philpott.
“I heard such a tale about Edith Howard! I did
not think she could be so very naughty. One—”

“My dear,” interrupted Mrs. Philpott, “before
you continue, we will see if your story will pass
the three sieves.”

“What does that mean, mamma?” inquired
Blanche.

“T will explain it. In the first place, is it true?”

“I suppose so; I got it from Miss White, and
she is a great friend of Edith’s.”

“And does she show. her friendship by telling
tales of her? In the next place, though you can
prove it to be true, is il kind?”

“I do not mean to be unkind, but I am afraid
it was. I should not like Edith to speak of me as
I have of her.”

“And, is it necessary?”

“No, of course, mamma; there was no need for
me to mention it at all.”

“Then put a bridle on your tongue.
speak well, speak not at all.”

If we can’t

0)

The Dying Miner.

Twenty miles from camp, and night approach-
ing. A young home missionary, working for his
Master in one-of the mining communities of Colo-
rado, found himself in this situation one day, and
was beginning to look about him for a desirable
-place in which to spend the night, when, a little
way ahead, he descried a rude cabin.

Approaching nearer, he saw it was one of the
poorest of these rough habitations, and much of the
“chinking” between the logs had fallen out, render-
ing the place additionally uncomfortable.

“Such a place as that is surely deserted,” said
the young minister to himself; ‘‘and I am inclined
to think I would rather sleep out of doors to-night
than inside that shell, even if it should prove to
be inhabited by one who would make me welcome.”

At that moment, the sound of song floated out
through the openings between the logs, and our
traveler stopped his horse to listen to a man’s weak
voice singing that dear old home-song — “The Home
of the Soul.”

Oh, that home of the soul! in my visions and dreams
Its bright, jasper walls I can see,

Till I fancy but dimly the veil intervenes

Between that fair city and me—

were the words which reached the ear of the listener
outside.

“I must see the man who can sing like that in
such a place as this,” thought the missionary, rid-
ing up to the cabin and alighting from his horse.

A feeble “Come!” came from within, in answer
to his knock; and, entering, he found himself in
the one small room of the cabin, which was almost
destitute of furniture.

In one corner a rude bedstead had been con-
structed of boards and rude pieces of timber, on
which some old blankets were spread; and on this
hard bed lay a man, evidently very near to death.

“Dying alone, in this situation, twenty miles
from the nearest camp, still his look into the be-
yond seemed so clear, so real, that the language of
the hymn he feebly sang was indeed the language
of his heart,” said the missionary, as he related the
incident afterward. “He died that night, and I
have never ceased to feel a thrill of thankfulness
whenever I think of him, that I was belated that
day, and so enabled to be with that man when the
end came. Surely, that which satisfies a man, when
dying in the midst of such surroundings, is not a
thing to be lightly rejected. When a young man
leaves the home of his boyhood, he cannot afford to
leave the religion of Christ, too2’— Golden Days.

Assurance of Faith.

When G. H. von Schubert, the distinguished
German naturalist and Christian writer, was asked
a few weeks before his death if he was sure of his
salvation, he replied with undoubting confidence:
“Yes, quite sure. There can be nothing surer than
that. I have a merit before which heaven’s door
must open. It is indeed not my own merit, but
the merit of my Lord Jesus Christ. ‘Who can rob
me of my heaven That God’s Son As my own To
my faith hath given?”

In this assurance of faith he patiently and cheer-
fully bore all the pains and sufferings of his last
days. In an hour of great suffering he once said:
“God’s compasssions are new every morning, and
His love faileth never. For forty-seven years my
faithful wife has stood by my side, and her love
has always remained the same. Whence such un-
changing love in the heart of:man who by nature is
faithless? The Lord has given her this love. But
if He gives a love that does not fail, Mare Pay
can His love fail?” oi