his soul prospers. All your enmities will fly like a flock of quails at the
bang of a rifle.

We treat our sins too politely. We ought to call them by their right names.
Hatred to our neighbor should not be called hard thoughts, but murder:
"whoso hateth his brother is a murderer!" Sin is abominable. It has tusks
and claws, and venom in its bite, and death in its stroke. Mild treatment
will not do. It is loathsome, filthy and disgusting. If we bid a dog in
gentle words to go out of the house, he will lie down under the table. It
wants a sharp voice and a determined manner to make him clear out, and so
sin is a vile cur that cannot be ejected by any conservative policy. It
must be kicked out!

Alas for the young man of the text! He refused Christ's word and went away
to die, and there are now those who cannot submit to Christ's command, and
after fooling their time away with moral elixirs suddenly relapse and
perish. They might have been cured, but would not take the medicine.

CHAPTER LX.

THE YOUNGSTERS HAVE LEFT.

The children after quitting the tea-table were too noisy for Sabbath night,
and some things were said at the table critical of their behavior, when old
Dominie Scattergood dawned upon the subject and said:

We expect too much of our children when they become Christians. Do not let
us measure their qualifications by our own bushel. We ought not to look for
a gravity and deep appreciation of eternal things such as we find in grown
persons. We have seen old sheep in the pasture-field look anxious and
troubled because the lambs would frisk.

No doubt the children that were lifted by their mothers in Christ's arms,
and got His blessing, five minutes after He set them down were as full of
romp as before they came to Him. The boy that because he has become a
Christian is disgusted with ball-playing, the little girl who because she
has given her heart to God has lost her interest in her waxen-doll, are
morbid and unhealthy. You ought not to set the life of a vivacious child to
the tune of Old Hundred.

When the little ones come before you and apply for church membership, do
not puzzle them with big words, and expect large "experiences." It is now
in the church as when the disciples of old told the mothers not to bother
Christ with their babes. As in some households the grown people eat first,
and the children have to wait till the second table, so there are persons
who talk as though God would have