Our discussion will be of little avail unless it awakens in our hearts earnest questionings in regard to our own voyage of life. Whither are we sailing? Who stands as the captain at the wheel of our life-ship? To what haven do we carry papers and cargo? It is our most precious privilege to have Christ in the ship with us. In such a case we may be sure that no storm can overcome us. Once when Christ was on earth He was in the ship with His friends, and when the storm arose and they were greatly frightened and besought His interest, He spoke peace to the waves, and they marveled that the very winds and the sea obeyed Him. Is Christ with you in the ship? If He is not, He is not far away and, if you will call for Him, He will answer. On one occasion, when the friends of Christ were on the sea at night, and a great storm came up that threatened them with shipwreck, Jesus was watching from the land, and when He saw their danger He came walking across the waves, and when He drew near they were frightened, and thought they saw His ghost, and they cried out that it was a spirit, but Jesus said to them: "Lo! it is I; be not

afraid." And He came into the vessel, and at His word the storm was calmed, and they soon came to the land in peace. I doubt not I speak to some of you now who are in the midst of the storm. With you, as with those early disciples, the winds are contrary. The night is dark, the waves of trouble run high about your ship. It seems to you as tho shipwreck of your fondest hopes and plans were certain. Oh, my friend, across the sea of your troubles, of your sorrows, yes, even of your sins, Christ comes walking to-night, and He is saying to you through the message of His Word, "Lo! it is I; be not afraid."

Let us ask again whither are we sailing and what haven beyond the grave do we hope to enter? Henry Van Dyke, in his beautiful little book, "Ships and Havens," declares that the passion of immortality is the thing that immortalizes our being. To be in love with heaven is the surest way to be fitted for it. Desire is the magnetic force of character. Character is the compass of life. Let us put this question very simply to the depth of the soul as tho it was put to each man and woman among us.

What is your desired haven beyond the grave? It is for you to choose. There are no secret books of fate in which your course is traced and your destiny irrevocably appointed. There is only the Lamb's book of life, in which new names are being written every day, as new hearts turn from darkness to light and from the kingdom of Satan to the kingdom of God. No ship that sails the sea is as free to make for her port as you are to seek the haven that your inmost soul desires. And if your choice is right, if your desire is real, so that you will steer and strive with God's help to reach the goal, you shall never be wrecked or lost, and it shall be said of you as of those of whom the psalmist speaks, "So he bringeth them unto their desired haven." Longfellow sings:

Like unto ships far off at sea,

Outward or homeward bound, are we.
Before, behind, and all around,

Floats and swings the horizon's bound,

Seems at its distant rim to rise

And climb the crystal wall of the skies,
And then again to turn and sink

As if we could slide from its outer brink.

Ah! it is not the sea,

It is not the sea that sinks and shelves,

But ourselves

That rock and rise

With endless and uneasy motion,

Now touching the very skies,

Now sinking into the depths of ocean.

Ah! if our souls but poise and swing
Like the compass in its brazen ring,
Ever level and ever true

To the toil and the task we have to do,
We shall sail securely, and safely reach
The Fortunate Isles, on whose shining beach
The sights we see, and the sounds we hear,
Will be those of joy and not of fear.

THE ROMANCE OF THE FIELDS

"And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in himself, after his kind, and God saw that it was good."-Gen. 1:12.

WR

E are at an interesting point in the biography of the world. The days of chaos have long passed. The waters have gathered themselves together in the basement of the globe and formed the great seas. Mountains have been heaved into the sky, and deep cañons and long slopes and new-born rivers add picturesqueness and grandeur to the topography of the world. But yet it is a dead world, for there is no life upon which the eye and the heart may fasten. But God's purposes are now taking shape, and grass is sprouting in the valleys and on the hillsides, and the barren earth is turning green in the sun. Daisies, like summer snowflakes, mingle with buttercups, yellow as the sun from which they draw their gold. Lilies spring up in the low