The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1881, Page 35

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

Christ.

Rest of the weary,
Day of the sad,
Hope of the dreary,
Light of the glad ;
Home of the stranger,
Strength to the end,
Refuge from danger,
Saviour and Friend.

Pillow where lying
Love rests its head,
Peace of the dying,
Life of the dead;
Path of the lowly,
Prize at the end,
Breath of the holy ~
Saviour and Friend.

When my feet stumble,
I'll to Thee cry,

Crown of the humble,
Cross of the high;

When my steps wander,
Over me bend,

Truer and fonder,
Saviour and Friend.

Ever confessing
Thee, I will raise
Unto Thee blessing,
Glory and praise;
All my endeavor,
World without end,
Thine to be ever,
Saviour and Friend.
(Monsell.)
——_——>_+ 9 0 +

The Young Christian and the Infidel.

Some years ago, writes a friend of ours, it
was my privilege to meet on the shores of Lake
Geneva a young American, who was suffering
with spinal disease, that had crippled and pained
him from his birth. His pale face, and shrunken
limbs, and curved back, showed the agony he
had endured, but his soul basked in the sun-
shine of his Saviour’s smile. On one occasion
he went for a day’s change to the town of Bex,
a place to which many travelers gathered on
entering or leaving Italy. He was seated at a
table in a large dining room with a number of
travelers who had just crossed the Alps, 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 leaving the room, when the young Amer-
ican said to him gently, ‘‘May I detain youa
moment?”’

‘“‘Certainly,’’ was the kind reply, as the
stranger glanced at the sickly youth, not know-
ing 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 always been in my body
a8 you see me now, only worse. My father died
When I was yet a child, and there was no one
to love me or care for me but my mother. I

had no childhood, but when the boys were
playing 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 un-
wearied 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 meeting 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.”

“Oh,” 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 minds of some of these young men,
who have listened to your cruel harangue against
the Bible. You are strong now and do not feel
your need of God, but there may come a change
for you; and these young men may also come
very soon to sorrow and‘temptation and death;
and you have done all you can to take away
their only shelter and support in the hour of
need.”

The powerful man stood for a moment silent
and humbled before the pale youth, and then
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 taking the
hand of the Christian he left the room. The
bravery of the infidel was shaken by the words
of that noble Christian young man, who had
experienced in his own heart the truth of the
Bible, the eternal Word of God.

————>— 0c 0

The Bible Reader and the Priest.

A fruit-seller of a Romish city is said to
have received and read the Word of God with
joy. A Romish priest passing by her shop,
‘where she improved every leisure moment in
studying the holy book, asked, ‘‘What are you
reading?”

‘It is the Word of God, sir,’ was the reply.

‘‘Word of God! Who told you so?”

“God Himself,”’ said the woman.

‘Himself! What folly! Has God spoken
to you? What proofs of it have you?’’

“Sir,” said the fruit-dealer, ‘‘prove to me
that the sun is there above our heads.’”

“Tt lights and warms us, is the proof,’”’ says
the priest.

‘‘Ah!”? cried the woman triumphantly, ‘‘ that
is the proof that this Bible is the Word of God.
It lights and warms my soul.’”

The priest could say no more; he went away
angry.— Watch Tower.

The Praying Child.

“My children,” said a poor widow to her
five little ones, “I have no food for you this
morning, as all the bread in the house is gone,
and I have no money to buy more. Pray to
the good Lord to supply our need, for He has
said, Call upon Me in the day of trouble.’

Little Christian, one of the widow’s children,
who was not more than six years of age, went
on his way to school sad and hungry.

But as he passed the door of the church he
saw that it was open, and determined to enter
in and pray there; for his mother’s dwelling
was so small and crowded that he was never
able to say his prayers quite alone. So he
went into the church, not knowing that any
one was there; he knelt down in the middle
aisle and said the following prayer:

‘‘Dear Father in heaven, we children have
nothing left to eat. Our mother has no food
in the house for us, and without Thy help we
must all starve! O Lord! help us. Thou art
rich and powerful, and to Thee it is an easy
thing to help us. Thou hast promised to do
so, therefore now fulfil Thy Word.’’

So prayed Christian with childlike simplicity,
aud then went to school. On his return he saw
the cloth laid for dinner, and bread, meat, eggs,
and rice temptingly spread upon the table.

“Thank God!’’ said little Christian, when
he saw it. ‘‘He has heard my prayer, mother;
did a beautiful angel bring these things for us?”?

‘‘No,” replied the widow, ‘‘but God has
sent them in answer to your prayers. When
you were in church you thought no one saw
you but God; but there was a lady sitting in
one of the pews, and she heard you pray, and
saw you through the lattice-work on the side
of the pew. She sent us our feast; she is the
angel whom God raised up to help us. Now
let us ask His blessing on our meal, never for-
get, my children, those sweet lines—

‘Trust the Lord, and wait His hour,
He will aid in love and power.’””

(From the German.)
———s +o o> oe

A Word Fitly Spoken.

The following incident actually occurred:

A father who openly denied the Christian
religion and was a professed infidel, observed
his little son intently reading the Bible.

‘“What book are you reading?’’ he said
sternly.

The little boy looked up abstractly and said,
with eyes swimming in tears, ‘‘Father, they
crucified Him!”’

The professed unbeliever stood still. It was
a word .in season. God had spoken to him
through the lips of his child. Ere long the
scales fell from his eyes. His soul was pros-
trate at the foot of the cross, seeking peace and
pardon from the Saviour he had rejected.

And now he is among those who testify to
the truth of Christ's religion—to His promise:

‘‘Him, that cometh to me, I will in no wise
cast out.”’—N. Y. Observer. ° ;