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ABOUNDING IN THANKSGIVING.
(Continued from page two) nrc you praising the Lord for about that??" The colored uiau answcivil: I am praising tin Lord because I've got my appetite left." T lie re are a ?r< ?o? I man men who would give a good part of their fortune for an appetite, and the greatest thing of all to be thankful for is a spiritual appetite, for has not .Jesus prom ised that. ''Blessed are they who do hung 'r and thirst after righteousness, for they shall he filled"? But that man was abounding in thanksgiving. And it is a great privilege. It is a duly, hut it is a privilege, too. for it brings abundance of blessings on our souls. Gratefully dwelling on a gift nmltpli's il and magnifies if. Thanksgiving enhanees the joys for which we are thankful. Instead of complaining, h't us learn from our soldiers who went overseas and "pack up our troubles." Charles Spurgeoii. I think il was. stated that it is a pleasant sight to see anybody thanking Cod, because the air is heavy with the hum of murmuring and the roads are dusty with complaints and lamenta tions. A unique sugestion was once made by Dr. Maltbie I), Babeoek. to the effect "that, in stead of having one day set apart for thanks giving. it would he better to set apart one day for complaining, and cram into it all our wor ries. leaving the rest of the year clear for grati tude." When the young students w -re in military training for positions as officers in the national army at .Madison Barracks, New York, in the summer of 1!H7. the idea of community sing ing in the army was developed, and \V. Stan ley Hawkins, of Rochester, directed this work, lie said that the favorite song of the men was. " Keep the Home Fires Burning," but the next choice was, "Back l p Your Troubles." Oner* when General Beaver, of Pennsylvania, was addressing a large audience, lie flourished his crutch in the air, and with unmatched elo quence said, "I won that at Chancellorsville. " ".My hay crop is a failure," moaned a farmer to his neighbor. ''But how about the pota toes?" asked the neighbor. "They are all right." "And your corn.'" "A fine crop." "And your oats?" "An excellent yield." Then the neighbor said: "Why don't you mention your successes tirst. ami put that fail ure in a parenthesis at the end?" General Beaver counted il an honor to leave a leg at Chancellorsville. The farmer raised four crops of produce and moaned because one was a failure. Wo can flourish our crutches or moan over them. We can moan over one poor crop or rejoice over three good ones. Which are we doing? There is real danger that this year's Thanks giving will prove to he Thanksgiving spoiled hy our people's murmuring ami complaints. If the people do work themselves up to a day of the formal rcnd'riug of gratitude to (Jod, it will hardly he according to their present mood. A national mood that forgets (Jod's benefits is a dangerous mood. We have been vouchsafed a thrilling victory, and yet how seldom do we hear any open praise for the divine aid which enabled 1 1 m ' Allies to conclude so gloriously their late conflict with the linn. Two tremendous legacies were left to the I'liited States by the world war ? one a debt, tli' other of gratitude. The legacy of debt will probably amount to M ll ).()( )*).()? K I. It will be paid. The other, the legacy of grati lude. is beyond all comprehension. We must have no failure in our appreciation of what the men who fought for the freedom of the world have accomplished, under (Jod's good providence. And yet how common is it to h"ar only murmnrings. We might well note the statements of an Old Testament prophet: ".le hovali heard h your munnurings which ye mur mur against him." It is recorded that Caesar once prepared a great feast for his nobles and friends. It happened that the day appointed was so extremely foul that nothing could be done to the honor of the meeting, whereupon he was so displeased and enraged that he commanded all who had bows to shoot up their arrows at .Jupiter, their chi *f god. as if in defiance of him for that rainy weather. When they did this, their arrows fell short of heaven and struck their own heads, so that many of them were sorely wounded. So our iiiurinurings. which are so many arrows shot at (Jod. will return upon our own heads. They hurt not Mini., but will wound us. Let us as Christians, as far as our influence can ex'tend. eiill people away from their miirmurings. For niurmuriiigs are arrows upward shot that surely will fall, niusi fall, upon their own h *ads. Let n>< turn the people to thoughts of (Jod's mercies, to gratitude, to the expression of gratitude for all (Jod's goodness toward us and goodness all the more gracious because so greatly undeserved. I ?cv. ( I. |'i. |' . I |m I luck. A LITTLE CHILI) AND COD By James Anderson. CIIAI'TKR VI. Several mure days passed (lining which (Jeorge seemed lo In* having a severe in.'ntal struggle. His mind l'rcc from ihe fog ?? t* liquor. In- lay on his hack pondering in silence. II* afterwards said, "I lay there savin' tae mysel, 'What a fool yc hac hecn.' 1 had hecn hi i nd a' tliae years, an' though I prized my wife highly, my conduct had hrocht oot her brilliance like the grindm' o' a diamond. When she cam inta:* the room I couldna speak mv heart griped inc. Ac moruni'she hrocht my gruel | luidua stcckit niycen a' niclit. When I saw her sinilin' face an' the tears in 'cr ecu I fairly hroke doon, an' I took Vr hand, an' cried, '<> .Margaret, my wife, what a madman I hac hecn. What deils possessed me. Will yc. can ye ever forgi "e me?' What dac yc think she did? Never a word tae me, hut she fell oil 'er knees an' \vi' tears rinnin' doon 'er cheeks, only said atween 'er solis, 'Lord, thank ye; Lord, thauk ye.'" I hiring tlx* next f '\v weeks (leorge Talbert wrestled with tin* great problem of life, hi youth he luul been well read in the Bible and knew that it ealleil him to repentance and faith. II' now bitterly repented; but he would not he a coward to accept salvation until he liiid in sonic way atoned for the sins of his life. In that quagmire lie stuck. The thought of death intervening before lie had time to do anything did not disturb him. lie would rather be lost a hero, than saved a coward. One Sabbath after Sabbath school, Annie went into her father's room, taking with her .Icanies Broon's little girl, Betty, and she kissed her father, lie asked tliem to sing one of their hymns, and they sang, I think when I read that sweet story of old," and others. He then asked what they had learned at Sabbath school, and she answered, "() father, sic a honnie text we had. 'Except, ye receive the kingdom of (Jod as a little child, ye shall not cuter therein.' The teacher said that faithcrs an' mithcrs an* folks had tae become little children. Disna it look runny-like .' aulil men ami women cheeiigi* tae bainrs." ami the two ehildren laughed. (Jeorge Talhert started so that ii pained him. "A little child"! and he was planning to heeoine a great hero. What was this new doctrine? For the t i r^t time he ealled for a liilile and poured over it. For days he studied the subject : "A little child." Finally lie com muned with himself thus: Would a little child take his positon of obstinaex .' It Annie disobeyed him ami he \v;is willing to torsive her. would she refuse forgiveness until she could make amends for her miseonuuet What uiis he in the s i 1 1 1 of the Almight\ that he should presume 1<? dictate terms for his# own surrender.' Would it not he more honor iu?r to (iod to accept his terms ;is a little child, than to earn his way into (tod's favor, even were that possible, by becoming the hero he had planned to be? Kven if he had the op portunity lie wished for to make atonement for himself <i 1 1 < I demonstrate his reformation, what certainty was there that he should suc ceed.' All the arguments he could conjure up pointed to the step he should take, but some thing continued to hold him back, and he re mained a prisoner in doubting castle. The prisoners in this castle are manacled by chains forged in the pit. Human will-power, worshipped by many as an omnipotent detiy, is powerless to break those chains. Oftimcs words from the mouths of babes have severed the fetters, and a little child has led the prisoners to freedom. Tne seed sown by little Annie had secured a safe lodgment and was fructifying, and (Jeorge Talbert's mind was a veritable maelstrom. Thoughts of various shades were seething, raging, surging wildly in that human mental vessel, giving no rest day or light. The battle was incessant, and continued even in the visions of the night, until, finally, the forces of sin were routed and the victory was won. One morning, after the sun had risen in all its clVulgcut glory, (Jeorge awoke and hastily called his wife. When she entered he said. "My wife, its a' richt noo. I've yielded. I'm a little child." "<>, (Jeordie," Margaret said, ''I kent it would come sometime. 1 thocht I 'd been hear in' the rum'le o' His chariot wheels. We can spend eternity thegither noo, praise the Lord, the hearer an' answered o' prayer." After a time he told her of a dream he had. lie said, "I thocht that I was at Derby se'in' a stirk cut up. The tlesher took the hert tae the trough an' let the water rin ower it. Syne 1 saw, juist like rats frae their holes, queer shaped craters jumpiu' oot o' the hert wi' tags on them. Ane was marked 'Disobedi ence,' anithcr 'Pride,' anither ' Iiitemperaiice," I forgot the it hers, but I wasna bothered till nae marc would come oot, an' the tlesher wrapped the hert in a piece o' clean paper an' wrote on the paper 'A Little Child.' " "Wi' a start an' a scream I cried, 'That's me,' an' I woke up shivcrin' an' cryin', 'My hert; my lfert ; that's where the trouble is,' an' I prayed, 'Lord gi'e me a clean hert.' When I had time tae think I kent I bad cheenged, an' ever since I've been sayin', as ye did the i*her nielif. 'Lord, thank ye; Lord, thank ye.' " Margaret's heart was too full for words, but at lhat moment Annie's voice was heard from the kitchen singing, "Then in ?i nobler, sweeter song I'll sing illy power to save, "When Ibis poor, lisping staniin 'ring tongue Lies silent io the grave."