of our various Protestant Churches. They have eliminated all dogma and doctrinal discussion and have contributed only such sermons as are best suited to the spiritual needs of those for whom this volume is especially intended. It is the prayer of the contributors to this volume that it may reach the homes of much affliction and bring words of comfort and encouragement to hearts of sadness and depression. J. D. HUTTON.

Shelbyville, Tenn.

PSALM XXIII.

I The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for

ever.

THE PILGRIM'S GUIDE

REV. DONALD M'QUEEN, D.D., PASTOR PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, SHELBYVILLE, TENN.

TEXT-"Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel and afterwards receive me (or take me) to glory." (Psalm 1xxiii. 24.)

Asaph has been sorely tempted. He had been led to envy the prosperity of the wicked. As he considered them, they seemed to be free from trouble, having more than heart could wish. Their very faces seemed to betoken fullness and plenty, for their eyes stood out with fatness. In striking contrast with these, he reflected upon the lives of many of the godly, their penury and poverty, their sorrows and afflictions, and the conclusion he had almost reached was that if the wicked were thus blessed with God's favor, then the efforts of the righteous to lead lives of holiness, seeking to do God's will upon the earth, were fruitless and vain. This was the conclusion well-nigh reached by God's servant, this the pit into

which he had all but fallen, when with some measure of bitterness he says, "Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocency.' This painful experience through which he was passing, this terrible temptation to which he was subjected, had overwhelmed him had he not betaken himself to God and the rectifying influences of the sanctuary. There the mystery was solved, there the anomaly rectified. For there he discovered what the end of the wicked would be; how desolation, terror and destruction would sweep them away as with a besom. Thus was this chorister of King David humbled at the thought of his distrust of God's faithfulness, and with a sense of his folly in envying those who, like the beasts of the field, were intent only upon the lower things of the world. Hence he exclaims in seeming shamefacedness, "I was as a beast before thee." He is content now to submit the case to God; to commit his life in all of its varied relations to Him, who, in this slippery place, as always, was holding him by the right hand. This God was more really his God now than ever before; this God would be his guide even unto death. Hence he says, "Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel and afterward receive me to glory."

As we go along the pilgrim way let us think then of

THE JOURNEY, THE GUIDE, THE GOAL.

THE JOURNEY.

We are wont to speak of life as a journey, and we frequently call it a journey through a wilderness, a desert drear, a vale of tears. Now, while life is a

journey, it is said to be a libel upon God's goodness to think of it as all wilderness, all desert, all dreariness. We know by experience that there are green pastures, still waters, and living fountains all along the way. Life, as a journey. simply means for us that we are pilgrims and strangers passing through a country that is good, to one that is better, even an heavenly.

On this journey we look for changes in the road. All roads do not lead to heaven, as to Rome, but the one road is marked with diversity. As upon a common journey the road is marked with changes, the eye being greeted the while with beautiful landscape. and anon barren wastes, rich tableland and tangled wildwood, lofty mountains and low-lying valleys, so the road Canaanward presents marked variety. We come to the Slough of Despond, the Hill of Difficulty, the bitter waters of Marah, the burning sands of the desert, and then we reach the palms of Elim, the green pastures, the still waters-God's quiet resting places. The effect upon us of these changes in our spiritual experiences depends largely upon our faith. If faith is strong, if our realization of the grasp of the Father's hand is perfect, then whether it be up or down, sunshine or shadow, rocky cliff or smooth white path through the mountains, waste howling wilderness or sweet, green fields, we can bear up and on; for every foot of the path lies in the King's highway as we journey homeward.

On this journey we encounter all manner of changes in the weather. However bright the day of our departure, think it not strange that there should be sudden changes in the spiritual elements. Some

times the bright sunshine of God's countenance illumines the way and we sing through very joy and gladness. And then we walk in darkness, the clouds hanging heavily over the skies, and we cry out, "Is thy mercy clean gone forever?" At times the sea is calm and the white sails of our ship catch the soft summer breezes, and then the storm breaks furiously upon us while we "toil in rowing," the winds being contrary. These are some of the weather changes along the way as we journey homeward, the influence of which is wonderful. Who does not feel better when the day is bright and the birds are singing, all nature being full of the fragrance of the new-mown hay or redolent of the perfume of flowers? But summer comes with its storms and tempests, its blighting and blasting, and winter with its sloughing winds, its bleakness and desolation. While these changes all affect us, some happily, others unhappily, let us remember that we are upon the heavenward way, whether the weather be fair or foul, and that the love of Him who goes with us knows no change, for all the changes in our spiritual experiences.

On this journey we meet with a variety of companionships. How marked a difference in our companions in travel upon any journey that we may make, some congenial, others indifferent, some we would gladly meet again, others we would as gladly forget. Is it not thus in our religious experiences? How widely different our fellow-travelers on the heavenward way! Some hopeful and cheerful, giving pleasure and happiness to all about them, others gloomy and morose, singing always in a minor key,