Come now, and greet me as a friend, fellow pilgrim upon life's highway:

Leave awhile the hot and dusty road, to loiter in the greenwood of Reflection. Come, unto my cool grotto, that is watered by the rivulet of Truth,

And on the mossy bank of leisure fling thy load of cares;

Taste my simple store, and rest one soothing hour.

Thoughts that have tarried in my mind, and peopled its inner chambers,

The sober children of reason, or desultory train of fancy;

The fruits I have gathered of prudence, the ripened harvest of my musings, These commend I unto thee.

ANDOVER

THEOL SEMINAR

ост 5 1906
LIBRARY

M. F. T.

57.624

THE BIBLE OUR GUIDE TO ETERNITY.

A TRAVELLER in Egypt was once engaged in exploring those immense subterraneous structures called the Catacombs. Having descended to a considerable distance, while threading his way through the intricate passages and narrow apartments which were filled with appalling darkness, he accidentally lost his guide. Alarmed, he wanderded to and fro with his blazing torch in hand, vainly striving to find a place of egress. Then bewildered, he shouted aloud for help; but no help came! along the gloomy, winding corridors reverberated in deep sepulchural tones, "Lost, Lost!"

Before long, his light suddenly became extinguished, and faint and weary, he sank down, half suffocated amid the heaps of ruins. There in that deep, dense labyrinth, he lay in terror, while visions of slow starvation, thirst and lingering death, stared him full in the face. How long he remained in this pitiful condition, he knew not, but God at length provided a way of escape, and directed his companion to the spot where he lay, and before long he was enabled to regain his strength and follow his guide, who soon led him once more into the light of day. In a similar condition does the Bible find us, lost in darkness and sin, vainly striving to grope our way through the mazes of error.

A light is offered us, not one of earthly wisdom, but kindled at heavenly altars; one that is inextinguishable, growing brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. David says "THY WORD IS A LAMP UNTO MY FEET, A LIGHT UNTO MY PATH." Life is fitly compared to a pilgrimage, a vale of tears, a weary journey full of danger. We are naturally prone to err; being creatures of impulse, we are often deluded by false pictures of life, and heedlessly chase the phantom of delight that dazzles us, till our feet are snarled, and we learn, too late, that "things are not what they seem." Again too, we are to contend with unseen enemies as well as those that are seen. If the god of this world blinds us, we shall inevitably perish. But our heavenly Father in his infinite wisdom has furnished us with a guide that will never leave nor forsake us, but with unerring skill point to Heaven and lead the way. Even "a sure word of prophecy, whereunto ye do well to take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place."

"It sweetly cheers our drooping hearts

In this dark vale of tears;
Bright as a lamp its doctrines shine,

To guide our souls to Heaven."

This is our only reliable guide. It is true there are lesser luminaries that emit a feeble radiance on the pilgrim's path, but how often do they deceive. Reason, with all its boasted powers, often is debased, perverted; experience too, is alas, a fallible guide, but with pure, unchanging brilliancy forever shines this holy beacon light of divine illumination.

We have all heard the oriental story of the "Wonderful Lamp," described in the wild, romantic style of Persian imagery, which conferred on its possessor such remarkable power, transforming slaves into princes, and poverty to regal splendor. Such a foolish tale may amuse a child, or serve to beguile a weary hour, but if we wish to hear of a truly wonderful lamp, let us examine the one that God hath given us.

I have somewhere read of an optician who constructed a curious lamp with four colored lenses, the one of which reflected a brilliant crimson light, another a beautiful green, a third a clear blue, and a fourth a golden yellow. Some one has compared the Bible to such a lamp. The first lens reflects the light of History, bringing to view the past, from creation's dawn; the second, the light of Precept, pointing to present duty; the third, the light of Promise, shedding its blessed rays throughout even the dungeons of despair, and showing the key that unlocks its most gloomy portals; lastly, there is the glorious light of Prophecy, illuminating the future, and unfolding the glories yet to be revealed.

'Blessed indeed are they that read this holy book, and they that hear it, for the "entrance of thy words giveth light." That it is an infallible guide, is proved by its internal evidences, and the divine attestation of miracles and prophecy; by its perfect harmony in every part, and more than all, by its wonderful adaptation to our wants, and the glorious testimony of a "great cloud of witnesses" who made its truths the treasure of their souls, and experienced in their dying

moments, the blessedness of its "exceeding great and precious promises." Do you doubt its divine origin? give me then, oh skeptic, a better guide! a brighter pole star, towards which on life's tempestuous ocean, I may steer my frail bark! Ye cannot? yet still reject the Bible? Farewell then infatuated man, a long farewell. Pursue your downward course like a wandering star, to which is reserved the blackness of darkness forever. Like the mariner who has forsaken the warning beacon light, and rushes towards some hidden reef, so you are madly rushing on the broad road to ruin, while around and above your path, in blazing characters may be seen "THIS IS THE WAY OF DEATH."

I have now briefly illustrated the nature of the guide provided by God, and shown its infinite superiority to all other guides.

"Blest book! in thee my eyes discern,

The image of my absent Lord;
From thine instructive page I learn,

The joys his presence will afford.”

Yes, this blessed book has the telescopic power to reveal to faith's aspiring eye, the New Jerusalem above, the multitude of the redeemed, the white robes, and palms of victory.

The Christian takes it, and though "looking through a glass darkly," and with eyes bedimmed with tears, he gazes from Pisgah's top, far away up to his Father's house on high; he beholds the river of the water of life, the happy myriads that drink of its life-giving tide, and the Lamb who guides them to ever-green pastures.