if they sing at all. The former are in the middle of the road, the latter on the edge, with just enough religion to make them miserable. They may be carrying, too, a little extra baggage of self-righteousness, or a grip or two of worldliness. Of course, these are not happy Christians and scatter no sunshine as they go along the way. Such know but little of the God of comfort or the comfort of God, and hence have but small consolation for any who are cast down. Yes, we meet with all sorts of companions along the way, people with varied temperaments, dispositions, faults and foibles. Some are

singing, some sorrowing, some walking, others running, some going forward with hope and confidence, others doubting and trembling, scarcely ever rising to a higher pitch of exultation than to cry, "O wretched man that I am!"

THE GUIDE.

On this, as upon every journey, we need guidance. Now the Word of God is full of this idea of guidance. "I will guide thee with mine eye." "He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness." "He leadeth me beside the still waters." "I will guide thee with my counsel." This idea of God's guidance goes with us forever, for "the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall shepherd them and lead them to fountains of living waters." This guidance is vouchsafed in manifold ways. The pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night was the token in olden times of His abiding presence and constant guidance. God still guides his people. He guides by circumstances of his own making, by men of his own appointment, and

by His counsel, which is His Word. This is the guidance to which reference is here made. If then we are to traverse all sorts of changes in the path, encounter all sorts of weather, and meet up with a variety of companionships, the necessity for guidance is at once settled. Along the way many dark problems are to be settled, many difficulties to be confronted, many nice questions of casuistry to be answered, in all of which it will be easy enough to stumble. To the average moral perception, as one observes, distinctions between right and wrong, essentially sharp, practically shade off into each other. Now in view of these distinctions to be made, these problems to be settled, we need counsel that is safe, sound, and satisfying. For the turning points in the road, commonly known as life's crises, we have promise of the guidance of One who is infinitely wise, who can make no mistake, and will not mislead.

Not only in the critical places but also in the commonest details of the route, guidance is offered. "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord." "In all thy ways acknowledge Him and he will direct thy steps." As there are but few crises in our lives, if we are to be guided by the counsel of the All-wise, it must needs be in the little duties and difficulties as they daily arise, the sum of which make up these common lives of ours. Suppose we try to live that way which is the secret of true life and living. Suppose we decide to take God's hand, look up into His face, and do just what He says. Will that not be to have Him guide us, and will we not be happier than if we fret and worry and seek to guide ourselves?

Is it not "better to walk with Him in the dark than to go alone in the light?"

And then this guidance is pledged to us for all the way, even to the end of the journey: "for this God is our God forever and ever." He will be our guide even unto death. The end for us all means death, and that is the point upon which we too frequently lay the greatest stress, a fact which seems to imply that a guide is more needful at the end than for the journey itself. The guide will be with us at the end, to be sure, but we need him most of all along the way.

As the end we reach depends upon the road we travel, so the way we die depends upon the way we live. Thus if we could but see more clearly we would discover that to live is more solemn than to die, for the manner of our dying depends upon the way in which we have lived. This brings us quite naturally to the conclusion-"and afterward receive me to glory."

THE GOAL.

After the end, after death, He will take me to glory. How beautiful, how full of comfort should this thought of the end be! After the dark river has been forded, the mortal crisis passed, He will take me to glory. Death is a terrible word. It makes us tremble, even the stoutest-hearted of us, for it is known as the terror of kings as well as the king of terrors. But suppose we call it God taking us, God receiving us, and not death. How it would rob it of its terribleness, and divest it of its ugli

ness! "Enoch walked with God and was not, for God took him." Which tells us that he and the loving Father were walking along the way in sweet communion and tender fellowship when there came a stillness, a pause; the gate opening gently, God took him into glory. Should not this give to death a new meaning? Jesus called it a sleep, gentle, sweet, peaceful. Here, after we awaken from this sleep, the Father takes us. After we reach the end of the journey, He receives us. It is as when we have come a long and tiresome way, reaching the end in the darkness of the night, when pressing upon the door of the dear old home, it opens and the loved ones lay hold of us and take us in. Take us in out of the darkness into the light; out of the storm into the sweet repose; out of the travel-stained garments into those that are clean and white. Or it is as when one sails upon a river running into the sea on either side of which are overhanging rocks or threatening shoals, but as these are passed we go out into the fathomless abyss of the ocean. There was no rude awakening, no startling shock or terror as we passed out into the dark, deep sea. The great waters simply took us in. Life has been likened to this river running to the sea. We need not fear the deep waters for they simply mean the larger, deeper, fuller life, the life in which there is fulness of joy, the life where there are pleasures forevermore.

"I know not the way I am going,
But well do I know my Guide,
With a childlike faith I give my hand
To the dear Friend at my side.

The only thing I say to Him

As He takes it is, 'Hold it fast;'
Suffer me not to lose the way,
But bring me Home at last."

"Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty,
Hold me with thy powerful hand:
Bread of heaven,

Feed me till I want no more.

Open now the crystal fountain

Whence the healing streams do flow; Let the fiery, cloudy pillar

Lead me all my journey through:
Strong Deliverer,

Be thou still my strength and shield.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside;
Bear me through the swelling current;
Land me safe on Canaan's side:
Songs of praises

I will ever give to thee."